


When Happily Ever After Fails

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Alternate Universe, Case Fic, Drama, F/M, Family, Friendship, Humor, Romance, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-11
Updated: 2011-12-11
Packaged: 2017-10-27 05:29:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/292114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“85% of murders are committed by people who know each other.” Ashley said.  “In Cambridge we all know each other.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Happily Ever After Fails

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: THERE IS NON-CONSENSUAL SEXUAL VIOLENCE PERPETUATED BY AN ADULT ON A TEENAGER IN THIS FIC. THERE IS ALSO UNDERAGE DRINKING, DRUG USE, AND SEXUAL ACTIVITY.
> 
> Author’s Note: As with all AUs, the characters in this story will be characters from Criminal Minds over the past seven seasons. The title is from the Don Henley song, The End of the Innocence and fit perfectly.

  
**SUMMER, 2000**   


“What's going on?”

Sam Kassmeyer dodged the falling raindrops as he ran up his best friend’s front steps. He was carrying his baseball mitt but there would be no game today. The rain was relentless, had been since last night. Plus there seemed to be a swarm of police activity in the field where they played.

“The cops found a body.” Aaron Hotchner replied.

He and Derek Morgan were standing on their respective porches with only a banister between them. They were all into what was happening at the end of their usually peaceful block. Lots of neighbors were out to see as well. This weather usually made the neighborhood a ghost town but that was not the case today.

“You gotta be kidding me.” Sam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “They found a real body?”

“Well I doubt there would be that much police activity for a fake one.” Derek said. “They even have an M.E.’s truck down there. They don’t pull those out for false alarms. I bet it’s a serial killer.”

“You really think there's a serial killer in our town?” Hotch asked.

“The cops don’t know for sure. My old man thinks there is. He used to work in Chicago; he's seen all kinds of things. There are three bodies, all similar looking females; I even heard that the bodies were posed kinda nasty. That has serial killer written all over it.”

“And this would be the fourth victim.” Sam said.

“There's no way your father told you all that stuff, Morgan.” Hotch said.

“Of course he didn’t but I heard him talking. He took the first call about the prostitute…this is his case. So I eavesdropped on his conversations. There’s a serial killer on the loose in Cambridge.”

“No way.” Sam shook his head as he watched the police down the street.

There were three cop cars with their lights flashing and a medical examiner’s truck. They had flashlights and had cordoned off the area with police tape. Three women had been killed already and that was mind-boggling. People died in Cambridge, they surely died everywhere, but they weren't murdered.

Sam didn’t think there had been a murder in this town as long as he’d been alive and he was almost 15. There were murders in Portland 50 miles away. Occasionally there was a murder in Forest Grove, which was half that distance. Nothing so horrible ever happened on his precious baseball field.

“You really think there's a serial killer here?” Hotch asked again. He watched them put the body bag on the stretcher and load it into the back of the truck. Then he thought of all the grownups he knew. Some were nice and some were not so but who was evil enough to be a murderer.

“Mmm hmm.” Morgan nodded. “It’s just like Ted Bundy, Son of Sam, or the Green River Killer. You know they never caught that dude. What if he settled in Cambridge?”

“No one new has moved here in like five years.” Sam said.

“The killer may have lived here all his life.” Morgan replied. “Maybe he's someone we know…blends in just like the rest of us.”

“That’s a scary thought.” Sam shuddered. “No one is safe if someone is hunting humans.”

“I wonder what would happen if we went down and asked some questions.” Hotch said. “We’re concerned citizens and have a right to know.”

“My dad would kick my ass for sure.” Morgan said. “I’ll get my info the old fashioned way; a glass to the wall suits me fine.”

“That really works?” Sam looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“I was shocked too but it does. My sister taught it to me. Its not foolproof, you miss stuff, but its good enough. I'm sure my parents will be discussing this tonight.”

“Do we even know who the body is?” Sam asked.

“I heard it was Amanda Gilroy.” Hotch said. “Some of the neighbors said that Coach Haas was driving by this morning and just saw the body there. He pulled over and rushed to call the police. At least that’s what I heard anyway.”

“No way, it can't be.” Sam covered his mouth. “Who would want to kill Amanda?”

Amanda Gilroy was in her mid-20s with a bubbly personality and a generous spirit. She was a social worker in Forest Grove though she lived in Cambridge her entre life. When she wasn’t working she always volunteered her time with young people in town. Amanda was everywhere all the time. She’d also been the best babysitter ever when she looked after Sam and his younger brother Sean some years back. Amanda couldn’t be dead…she couldn’t be murdered.

“This is insane.” Derek said. “I can't believe we have our own serial killer. And to think I thought it would be another snooze-filled summer.”

“I know right.” Hotch nodded. “I bet there will be more about this in the local paper. C'mon guys, I know we have at least a week’s worth in my house.”

Derek hopped the banister and they went into Hotch’s house just as police drove away from the field.

***

Jill Morris rushed into the diner figuring this would be the place to find her best friend. After calling her house and getting the answering machine, there were only a few options. It wasn’t as if Cambridge was hopping with things to do. This was doubly so on a rainy late Tuesday morning. The town could probably be even more boring but Jill didn’t want to test that theory. She bummed a ride with her mom, who needed to make a trip to the hardware store.

“Oh my God, they found a body in the field on Cumberland Circle.” Jill was breathless, both from anticipation and from running so she wouldn’t get too wet. She slid into the booth next to Jordan Norris. The young blonde was flipping through _Seventeen_ magazine.

“No shit?” Emily Prentiss looked up from her breakfast plate.

Today it was a steak, potato, and cheddar omelet. She wasn’t going to sadden herself by thinking about the calorie count. Usually she would just swim or play tennis to burn it off but that was difficult on a rainy day. Still, it beat the bowls of boring cereal she had nearly every morning during the school year. While Cambridge, Oregon wouldn’t know exotic if it got naked and gave it a lap dance, she still enjoyed the diner’s hearty American fare.

“That’s all you have to say?” Jill was a bit flabbergasted. “It’s the fourth body they found, Emily. This is spreading all over town. My mom heard it was Amanda Gilroy.”

“Are you serious?”

That got Emily’s attention. She liked Amanda Gilroy…everyone liked her. Cambridge was a small town, less than 4000 people. Neighbors knew each other.

Amanda was one of those people beloved by everyone she encountered. It would suck for some freak to just kill her. And Emily was sure that probably wasn’t all that happened. She wondered how scared she must have been; knowing that someone she could’ve trusted was a murderer.

“She helped me sign up for some volunteer work at the nursing home last Thursday.” Jordan said. “She can't be dead now.”

“Well my mom heard that she was.” Jill tried to hide her disdain. She rolled her eyes at Jordan and looked back at Emily. “Four women are dead, Emily, don’t you know what that means? Cambridge has a serial killer.”

Emily couldn’t believe what she was hearing but it was tough to deny. The first body was found in the beginning of April on the outskirts of town. The police identified her as Marci Mitchell, a prostitute out of Portland. The murder got more than a few tongues wagging. It was big news though no one really associated it with the happenings in Cambridge proper.

At the end of the month, Julie Riley was reported missing by her co-worker. She was new to town so it only created a small ripple. That ripple exploded when her body was found three days later in brush near the Willamette River. In May, it was Kelly Dalton who was gone without a trace. She’d told her mother that she was heading to Target in Forest Grove.

A few days later, a friend found her in her bed murdered. That really made the whole town nervous. People felt as if they were not safe in their homes and wanted these crimes solved. The police said she wasn’t killed there but brought back after death and posed. That did nothing to make people feel better.

Now it was June and Amanda Gilroy might be dead. Emily didn’t even know she was missing. Of course she had been busy living her own life. She rarely let town gossip, and there was plenty to go around, filter into her universe. She was the better for it. Serial killer was something Emily heard loud and clear though.

“Well that means Dateline is on the way to town.” She smirked. “It’s going to be an insane summer.”

“The police are supposed to have a press conference later.” Jill said. “They're going to be all over the news in Forest Grove and Portland. This might even make it to Washington State though I doubt it’s important enough for California. No one can pretend or wish anymore that it’s not happening.”

“Do you think the FBI might come to town?” Jordan asked. “On TV the FBI always hunts for serial killers.”

“Oh my God, this is not TV, Jordan. Get a clue.”

“Hey, Jill, chill out.” Emily snapped. “She wasn’t saying to personally offend you or anything. She’s right, that’s always how it happens on TV. I wouldn’t mind seeing some hot FBI agents around here. Most of these guys do nothing for me.”

To Jill, Jordan wasn’t the Third Musketeer; she was the third wheel. She had no idea why Emily wanted to hang out with her but she did so Jill did her best to tolerate it. Jordan was nice enough but her family lived in the Poplar Hills Trailer Park and she was a bit slow on the uptake. She was a year behind them in school even though she was the same age.

Jordan also took SPED classes. Jill didn’t want to be buddies with someone in SPED classes. Her older sister told her being nice to Jordan would improve her karma. No one wanted bad karma.

“You know this means one of our neighbors might be an axe murderer.” Emily said. “He could be in here right now eating hash browns. Look around Jordan, pick one.”

“Mr. Hankel gives me the creeps.” She said, covering her mouth as she giggled.

“Oh hell yeah, good answer. Mr. Hankel has serial killer written all over him. What do you think Jill?”

“No self-respecting, attractive woman would ever get anywhere Raphael Hankel. We would’ve heard her screaming from Portland.”

Emily rolled her eyes. She honestly had no idea why the two of them were still friends. She liked her at 10, maybe even 12, but they had outgrown each other years ago. Emily was almost 15 now and she was changing. They’d been friends since first grade though.

Jill was the only one willing to play with the new girl at school. Everyone else had known each other since Mommy and Me. So Jill, Sam Kassmeyer, and Jordan…they were her first friends in Cambridge. Nine years made a world a difference, for better or for worse.

“Jordan, we need to read up on this whole case.” Emily said. “I'm behind cuz I was slipping during the last trimester of school. If I would've gotten a D in Algebra, Aunt Erin would've had my ass and I couldn’t afford that. I spent too much time studying and none on the haps of this town.”

“There are probably newspapers going back months in the library.” Jordan replied.

“That’s an excellent plan. And it’s a good way to spend a rainy day too. So we’ll do that. Hey Jill, your mom is trying to get your attention.”

“Shit.” Jill turned around to look. “I gotta go, but I’ll call you later and we’ll dish.”

“OK, I might have something to contribute by then.”

Nodding, Jill got up and left the diner. Emily watched her climb into her mother’s overpriced Range Rover. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree there.

“Sorry that Jill was such a bitch, J.” Emily said.

“I thought she only acted that way on Thursdays.” Jordan replied. “I guess I was wrong about that.”

They both laughed as Emily went back to her breakfast and Jordan to her magazine. Jordan seemed relaxed and content to leaf through pages of ways to make teenage girls either feel like goddesses or scum. Jordan was pretty much always relaxed and content when they were together. That was what Emily liked about her.

She didn’t need to see and be seen. She didn’t care about being top dog or the head cheerleader. They could hang out, watch movies, paint their toenails, sometimes smoke a little weed or have a beer. Emily didn’t need to be ‘on’ when she was with Jordan. Jordan just got her and sometimes, most of the time, that suited Emily just fine.

***

“Would you like to take a trip?”

Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi looked up when he heard Jason’s voice. His teammate, and technically his boss since Jason was Unit Chief now, leaned on his open door frame. Many moons ago, the two of them, along with a few like minded agents formed the Behavioral Analysis Unit. They spent a long time combating cries of junk science and anything else people could think of to discredit them. They were famous now because of The Silence of the Lambs but the unit had always been about more than serial killers.

All criminals had a psychology to their behavior and for many it was vastly different. Their jobs weren't easy but it was a hell of a ride. Also, both Dave and Jason hated the term profiler. It was little they could do about it now. The word was part of the pop culture lexicon. Neither of them appreciated that criminality was pop culture. Just more proof they were all going to hell in a hand basket.

“Don’t you think we spend enough time together?” Dave countered. “Now you want to take me on vacation?”

“While I would love to relax with you on a sandy beach,” Jason replied with his near-patented neutral face. “This is business. I know you’ve been traveling a lot lately but Cambridge, Oregon probably has a serial.”

“Cambridge, Oregon.” That got Dave’s attention. “That town can't have more than 4000 people. They think they have a serial?”

“Yeah. C’mon in the conference room…JJ has it all set up for us.”

Nodding, Dave stood and followed Jason out of his office. It was a case so Dave needed his head in the game. He was only human though. As soon as Jason said Cambridge, Oregon his mind could only think of one thing. Erin.

It felt like a million years since he’d seen her, touched her, or talked to her. In reality, it had been eight. Dave wanted her to stay with him; he’d almost asked her to do it. That wasn’t fair though. Not that it was fair of Erin’s brother and sister-in-law to put their political ambitions above their child.

But the little girl needed to be raised and Dave honestly couldn’t say he was 100% ready for pure monogamy. He’d been married three times but only in love twice. He hadn't even intended to fall for Erin Strauss. It was a total rebound thing after her husband left her for a younger woman. Dave swept in and swept her off her feet.

He reminded her that she was brilliant, sexy, vibrant, and had so much to offer the world. Her ex-husband was an asshole. Her bosses were douchebags. Time off and away from all of that was the perfect idea in his opinion.

He had no idea it would be 8 years and 2400 miles. Dave would be a liar if he said there hadn't been women in his life since Erin. He’d actually liked a few of them. But nothing came close to what he had with her; that was the truth.

“Starting with a prostitute may be about picking someone who is nameless and faceless to him.” Jason said. “Then he moved on to friends and neighbors as he got more comfortable and confident.”

His voice brought Dave back to reality. Reality was four dead women and a town that would surely be torn apart at the seams. This was Erin’s town.

“And they said the prostitute was from Portland?” Dave asked, looking through the case file. “That’s a long way for the Unsub to travel for his jollies.”

“Cambridge is a small town.” JJ replied. “It might have a sex trade but it’s also way too close to home. Many of the locals describe it as a bedroom community with people driving to Portland and neighboring Forest Grove for work. This is especially so since the paper mill shut down in the 80s. Gless Plastics is still a big employer though.”

“It’s going to be hell profiling a small town Unsub.” Jason said. “People know each other, judge each other, and lie on each other. Also, it wouldn’t be hard for him to lure just about anyone as long as he’s perceived as normal. If his compulsion deepens, we could see a lot more bodies.”

“He’d have to be damn good to get a pro comfortable enough to let him drive her 50 miles away.” Dave said.

“Perhaps he was a regular customer.” JJ suggested.

“We find out about the first victim and that might be the key to who the Unsub is.”

“In this case he either knew her or she was a complete stranger and thus easier to kill without feelings attached.” Dave said.

“What does that mean?” JJ asked.

“Simply put,” Jason replied. “It means we have bupkis. Wheels up in 30, Dave. We have to fly into Portland and drive to Cambridge.”

***

Charlie really didn’t want to go into the room. He could hear her crying from outside but had no idea what to do about it. Unfortunately emotions weren't something he was good at. But when you had kids it didn’t matter if you were good or bad, you had to try. His mother taught him that and he really did try his best.

He loved his kid. He didn’t want her upset. But what the hell was he supposed to do to make her stop crying? Charlie could be just as bad with words as emotions. Sometimes he was sure he wasn’t good at much. How he, and she, survived as long as they had he had no earthly idea.

“Charlie?” she looked up, wiping her tears as she saw his shadow outside the door. “What are you doing?”

“I was um…” he pushed the door open. “I was just checking on you, kid. You want some pizza or something? We can order from your favorite place.”

“I'm not hungry.” Ashley sniffled.

“Aww c'mon kid, you gotta eat.” He came into the room. “I know it won't make you feel better but at least you won't be starving later on.”

“Is she really dead, Charlie? Is what everyone saying true? Was Amanda murdered?”

“I don't know.” He stepped over all of her junk and made his way to the bed. She really needed to clean this place; he thought his room was bad. “This town has always been full of rumors and such. Amanda passed away, that’s all I know right now. I'm sorry; I didn’t want to be the one to tell you but…”

“Its unfair.” Ashley threw the tissue she was holding down on the bed.

“Yeah, it is. They say only the good die young.”

“Why do they say that? Why do good people die and bad people get to stay? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Lots of things in life didn’t make any sense to Charlie Beauchamp. He did his best to just brush them aside and live. But now he had to explain life to a twelve year old, and a sad one at that. Being a dad was hard work.

Ashley did a lot of raising herself, he knew that. He had to step up eventually though, right? Bastards in that town already thought he would fail miserably. Why give them something to work with? Succeed or fail, he refused to let his kid down.

“I don’t have all the answers, Ashley, I wish I did. The truth is that even when people are here for a little while they can still make a big impact on your life. Amanda helped you learn to swim, she helped you pass that big test and get into those gifted classes. I know she's gone now and that hurts but what she did while she was here was important too.”

“But who would want to hurt her, Charlie? Everyone liked her.”

“The police are gonna find out, I suppose. I know they won't let something like this go unsolved. But it ain't TV, this could take time.”

“85% of murders are committed by people who know each other.” Ashley said. “In Cambridge we all know each other.”

He nodded. Sometimes he swore the kid was smarter than him and he didn’t always know what to say to her. Amanda told him she was a genius if her IQ of 156 was to be believed. Still, she was just 12; in so many ways just a little girl.

She didn’t play with dolls or dress like a princess but she also didn’t know the darkness of the world. At least Charlie hoped she didn’t. He couldn’t always control her watching those procedurals and crime shows on TV. But they weren't always real.

Ashley was still safe watching it from her living room. Amanda Gilroy’s murder was real. And she’d been the fourth victim so far. Whatever the hell was going on in Cambridge would change the whole town and his daughter.

“I know this won't make you feel any better but it’s probably best not to focus on something so sad tonight, kid. C'mon,” he put his arm around her shoulder. “We’ll have some meatosaurus pizza and watch any movie you want. Sometimes distraction is the best you can do. It’s not pretending to be happy when you're sad, it’s just not letting the sad take over completely.” Charlie hoped she heard him because he didn’t have much else to say if this failed.

“Any movie I want?” Ashley asked.

“Yep, even that one with the luck dragon.”

“Aww c'mon Charlie,” that produced a small smile. “I haven’t been hooked on _The Neverending Story_ since I was like seven.”

“It was your favorite movie and you know it. We can watch it for old time’s sake. I bet we’d both enjoy it.”

That was probably the movie he’d fallen asleep to most in his life. The cartoons were easier to get through than that one.

“That might be OK.” Ashley nodded. She thought it was good of Charlie to be trying so hard to make her feel better. It wasn’t exactly working but in a way it was. Despite everything it showed how much her dad loved her. When she didn’t have anything else in the world Ashley was sure to have that. “You order the pizza; I’ll wash my face and stuff.”

“Good deal.” He gave her a hug and got up from the bed. “You gotta clean this room, kid. The place looks like an F5 tornado ran through.”

He walked out and Ashley sighed. She had no idea what was happening but she knew it wasn’t good. Someone she cared about was gone. Ashley didn’t have many people in her life. Gran died a few years back, leaving her and Charlie all alone.

She hadn't seen her mother in four years. She only had one friend because most of the other kids talked about her behind her back. Now she was down one more person. It wasn’t fair and she didn’t know what to do with all the anger and sadness she was feeling inside. Maybe if she stuffed herself with pizza that would push it down so far that it would never come out.

***

Cambridge was as picturesque as Dave imagined it would be. As he drove from 1-5 to I-25 to Route 47 and into town, he was able to find out everything he needed to know about why someone would live here. Manicured lawns, happy children, chatting neighbors, and an attractive main thoroughfare and town center made Cambridge seem perfect. But now there were dead bodies as well and that wasn’t a good selling point.

He put the SUV in park as they pulled into one of the parking spaces in front of the police station. There was a man outside; wasn’t hard to tell he was a cop. He was white, solidly built, and puffing on a cigarette. Dave was willing to bet high it was Marlboro Red. The light drizzle falling on this Friday morning didn’t seem to bother him in the least. Jason got out of the SUV first and Dave followed.

“We’re looking for Detective John Barton.” Jason said.

“You found him.” the cop extended his hand. “You guys with the BAU?”

“I'm SSA Jason Gideon and this is SSA Dave Rossi.”

The men shook hands and Barton gave Rossi another look.

“I saw you in Portland; you did a talk on Gacy and the pathology of the hebephile.” He said.

“I hope it was informative for you.” Dave replied.

“Most people can admit to having a slight fascination with serial killers.” Barton said. “Not because of what they do to people but just that they do it at all. That was a few years back though. I probably forgot everything I heard.”

“You recognized that something was wrong in your town.” Jason said. “That shows you didn’t forget everything.”

“My partner said it was a serial, not me.” Barton dropped the cigarette in a can of sand nearby. “I believed him and backed him up but he noticed the pathology first. Sad to say but Morgan paid a lot more attention to the prostitute murder than anyone else, even me.”

“Is there any particular reason for that?” Rossi asked.

“She wasn’t found in Cambridge proper so we really had no way of associating her with anything going on here in town.” He started walking into the station and the agents followed. “Morgan put two and two together after we found Julie Riley but the words serial killer scares people.

“Commander Marks told him to just work the case. Our third victim was found at home so they tried to pretend the cases weren't connected. They wanted to rake the ex-husband over the coals for that one…he and the victim were in a contentious custody battle. Nothing could be denied after we found Amanda though.”

Both Dave and Jason noticed that Barton used the first name only of the current victim. That meant he was close to her. Of course in a town of 4000 he had to have been close to all of them but the first. Still, if Amanda Gilroy was the most beloved of the victims the heat could be on to get it solved. If the others were solved by proxy that would be better for everyone.

“Morgan,” Barton called out. “The BAU is here.”

James Morgan held up his hand as he finished his phone call. He hated that he was home less and less lately. Being a cop in Cambridge was an important job but was hardly one that kept him away from his family. It wasn’t as glamorous as working in Chicago had been…not even close.

But coming home at night to his wife and three kids was something James would take over glamour any day. Now here he was smack in the middle of a case he never expected to encounter in the safe, small town he called home. He never thought it possible when he answered his ringing telephone almost three months ago. Getting up from the desk, he walked over to the where the FBI agents were standing with his partner.

“James Morgan, good to meet you.”

“You as well.” Jason and Dave shook his hand.

“There's no use taking you guys to the last crime scene.” James said. “Unfortunately its been raining on and off here since Sunday so what little chance we had of finding trace evidence went with the water. The only crime scene we had that wasn’t outside was Kelly Dalton but it didn’t take long to see the murder didn’t take place there.

“It was as clean as an operating room. No hair, fiber, or fluids were found. Maybe this creep watches CSI. Soon these TV shows are going to show the bad guys how to commit the perfect murder.”

“Nobody’s perfect.” Dave replied.

“Are you guys going to stay in Forest Grove or here in Cambridge?” Barton asked.

“Well we’d prefer here if there's someplace.” Jason said. “We want to be in the thick of it, so to speak. I'm not sure if you both thought this aloud or possibly discussed it but the odds are high that the murderer is someone you’re close to.”

“I didn’t want to think about it but I figured as much.” Barton said.

“We’ve compiled a few persons of interests but it hasn’t quite gone as far as we’d like. Connecting someone to all four murders is almost impossible.” Morgan said. “Sadly, Amanda’s death may have just bumped one of our persons of interests up to suspect.”

“We’d definitely like to see everything you have on him.” Dave said. “And we need to know everything about the victims as well, of course.”

“Of course.” Morgan nodded.

“As for sleeping arrangements, there are no hotels in this town.” Barton said. “But Mrs. Clemmons has rooms. You probably saw her place when you drove into the town. It’s the first big house you see coming off Route 47. She has six rooms and she’s willing to offer them to you. She also makes a hell of a pot roast, though there are some good places to eat on Main Street.”

“Alright.” Jason nodded. “We’d like to get right to work with all the evidence you have and then we’ll settle in. When can we talk to the medical examiner?”

“Doc Rawlings is our doctor of all trades.” Morgan replied. “He works in the basement on any medical examinations but you can find him in his office in town most days of the week. He’s a general practitioner; almost everyone around here has seen him for something or other at one time in their lives.”

“I’ll talk to the doctor.” Jason said.

“I’ll work here.” Dave replied. “I'm gonna need a crash course in Cambridge and its inhabitants if you guys don’t mind.”

“I've lived here since I was a kid and Morgan’s finally been here long enough for people to stop calling him the new guy.” Barton said. “C'mon, everything we have is this way. We don’t have much space so we’ve set up in one of our interrogation rooms.”

“I’ll meet you back here in an hour or so.” Jason said. He turned to go back outside.

“Agent Gideon, don’t you want directions?” Sergeant Morgan asked.

“I’ll ask someone in town. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I have a feeling he's profiling us already.” Barton said in a lowered voice to Rossi as Jason left the police station.

“You would be absolutely right.”

000

“Doctor Rawlings?” Jason walked into his office as the doctor stood.

“Agent Gideon.” He extended his hand. “I surely wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

“I was told that you could answer any questions I had.”

“Yes.” He waved toward the chair. “Have a seat.”

Jason sat down and Doc Rawlings did as well. He’d grown up in Forest Grove and had lived in Cambridge since getting married over 32 years ago. Many things had happened in that time but he could honestly say he never thought his town would go through this. He delivered Amanda Gilroy; he never expected to do her autopsy just 24 years later.

“Were all four victims killed in the same way?”

“All four died from manual strangulation, yes. But the first victim, Marci Mitchell, was killed from an arm over her throat, which is more defensive in nature than the hands around someone’s throat. I'm not a profiler but this led me to believe that her death may have been accidental. Perhaps the killer was attempting to quiet or just restrain her. All four had been strangled and revived at least once before they were murdered. The bodies didn’t show much in the way of physical trauma beyond the horrific sexual assaults.”

“And there was also sodomy?” Jason asked.

“Yes.” Doc Rawlings nodded. “There was rape and strangulation with no sign of foreign objects. Both Marci Mitchell and Kelly Dalton had broken fingernails. I couldn’t be sure if they were result of struggle during the sexual assault or possibly during the kidnapping…if they were even kidnapped.”

“When someone you trust offers you a ride it’s usually not construed as kidnapping.” Jason replied.

“What are you saying?”

“There was no blood, hair, semen, sweat, or anything found on the victims that could give you DNA?” Jason asked as if he didn’t hear the doctor’s question. He had no idea how much of this conversation would be given back verbatim in the barber shop, market, or bank over the next few days. He wasn’t going to add fuel to the fire by suggesting someone Doc Rawlings went to church with most likely did this.

“I'm afraid not. All the victims were bathed and fresh makeup was applied before they were dumped. One thing of note, according to loved ones it was the makeup the women preferred so the killer knew that somehow. Of course it also could’ve been what was handy in their purses. My wife carries enough of it around; my daughter as well. I have to be truthful and say I've only seen this kind of thing on TV. It boggled my mind.”

“Unfortunately I've seen it more than I care to recall. Other than Marci, you were well acquainted with the other victims. What can you tell me about them?”

“Medically, they were all healthy.” Doc Rawlings replied.

“That’s good to know. I meant something more personal. They're from a small town so they surely had friends and possibly lovers in common.”

“Amanda Gilroy was a virgin. I know because it was obvious that her hymen was torn during the sexual assault.” The doctor looked pained at revealing such personal information. “As far as I know she wasn’t seeing anyone but I honestly don’t know how she even found time to sleep. It was one project after another with Mandy. She wanted to save the world one kid at a time.

“Kelly had a little boy; Austin was four. She worked in a Forest Grove hotel and had a lot of friends. As for dating I don’t know. But I did give her a referral to speak to someone about the depression she experienced since the divorce and custody battle. Her ex was preparing to remarry and thought he and his new wife would raise the little boy better than she could on her own.”

“What about Julie?” Jason asked.

“She was twenty eight and I heard she liked the nightlife. I honestly didn’t know her that well. She wasn’t from here; had only lived in Cambridge about five years. Most of her business was conducted in Forest Grove so I'm not her doctor. But she was very pleasant and easy to talk to.

“I frequently ran into her in the grocery store and she worked at the bank. These women weren't who you would think of when you think of victims. They surely weren't on the fringes of society like Marci Mitchell. Not that that makes her death any less sad…I hear she was the mother of two young sons.”

“Speaking of Marci Mitchell, are there men in this town who enjoy or solicit the company of prostitutes?”

“Well I don’t want to talk out of turn, Agent Gideon…”

“I'm afraid by the time this is over, Doctor, many people will be talking out of turn. By the time we filter through the garbage we might actually have our hands on a killer. This is a small town; it won't be easy to break through the masks, the stereotypes, or the worse kept secrets. But that’s what I'm here to do. Please, do you know of anyone?”

“I can honestly say I only know of one who would go for someone of Miss Mitchell’s caliber. That’s not to say that other men don’t see hookers; paid sex is a fact of life even in small towns like this. But Charlie Beauchamp is the only one I know who travels to Portland for his “business”. That’s what he calls it, not me.”

“Is his “business” one of those worst kept secrets?” Jason asked.

“His father liked prostitutes and it looks as if the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in that respect. Luckily for Charlie, and the rest of this town, that seems to be the only thing the Beauchamp men have in common.”

“What about the other victims? Was Charlie possibly intimately acquainted with any of them or connected in some way?”

“Amanda spent a lot of time mentoring Charlie’s daughter. Earlier this year she was tutoring Ashley for a test to see if she could make the cut for some mentally gifted courses the middle school is offering. It would put her on the AP track and give her a chance in hell to get out of the trailer park. I know that Amanda spent time in Charlie’s trailer.”

“Is Charlie Beauchamp the troubled kind?”

“He didn’t have the easiest time of it growing up.” Doc Rawlings replied. “He had an out of wedlock child in his teens and also a few scrapes with police here and in Forest Grove. Still I think that was mostly in his late teens, maybe his early twenties. Having Ashley refocused him.”

“Where is Ashley’s mother?” Jason asked.

“She was from Forest Grove…I'm sorry but I can't remember her name. Ashley’s been with Charlie since she was a little one and she’s 12 now. That’s why Amanda took to her; the child didn’t have a mother figure. Of course that could also be why Charlie took to Amanda.”

“Is that rumor or do you know that to be true?”

“Everyone took to Amanda.” Doc managed a smile though it was soon replaced by tears in his eyes. “She was just that type of girl, Agent Gideon. Her smile and outgoing personality could take over a room in an instant. I'm positive she was not lacking for potential suitors.”

“Thank you for your time, Doc.” Jason stood. “If I have anymore questions I’ll be back. I appreciate your honesty.”

“I just want you to find the person who did this. The women in this town need to feel safe and the children don’t need to worry about losing their mothers. Whatever I can tell you to make that possible, I'm telling it.”

***

“Whoa,” Emily did a screeching brakes sound as she stopped in front of her Aunt’s bathroom door. “What's going on here?”

“What are you talking about?” Erin Strauss looked away from the mirror.

“You look hot, Aunt Erin. Where are you going?”

“I'm having dinner with some friends.”

“Is this a particular friend?” Emily asked. “Is it a male friend perhaps?”

“You're at that age where your mind is frequently in the gutter.” Erin replied, turning back and brushing her hair.

“I honestly hope I never lose that. Its Saturday night…Jordan always calls it date night.”

“Jordan is 14; she's too young to date.”

“It’s the new millennium. Things are different than they were in the Byzantine Age when you were a teenager.” Emily replied smiling.

“You know you're a closet geek when you use historical references to make fun of your Aunt.” Erin said.

“Aha, touché. Really…where are you headed?”

“My friend Ursula is having a dinner party.” Erin replied. “She's having over some faculty from Pacific University where she teaches as well as University of Portland.”

“So there will be men there?” Emily asked.

“I suppose so.” Erin put on her lipstick and then her earrings.

“There will be single men there?” her niece pressed.

“Emily Katherine Prentiss…”

“Uh oh, the three name thing. I think your going out is a good thing. You need to be around people your age and not have it involving work. You’re what some would call a workaholic. There is more to life than all of that. According to _Cosmo_ , you're about to hit your prime. You're a sex goddess…work it Aunt Erin.”

“When I encourage you to read,” Erin replied. “ _Cosmo_ was surely not what had in mind.”

“I squeezed it in between _Northanger Abbey_ and _The Iliad_.”

She had no idea what she was going to do with the teenage girl. Emily could be a handful. She was brilliant, Erin had no doubt about that, but wasn’t that fond of school. Erin was sure it was because she wasn’t stimulated but Emily refused to even consider private or boarding school. She just wanted to be a normal teenager.

That’s what Erin was afraid of. Many of the normal teenagers in Cambridge were stuck in a cycle of drugs, sex, and shenanigans. Most of them weren't truly bad kids but they weren't doing good things right now either. Erin hated to be a prison guard. She wasn’t Emily’s mother though she had been caring for her since she was six years old. She put her foot down when she had to and wasn’t afraid to dole out discipline and punishment.

But part of Emily’s brilliance was she was able to hide much of what she was doing behind the façade of the normal, bright, smartass teenager. Erin recognized it because she’d done the same many moons ago to keep her parents in the dark. She was often held up as the example of how parents wanted their children to be. If they only knew what the truth was. Well Erin did, and thinking of Emily doing the things she’d done scared her to death. At the same time she wasn’t sure how to stop it from happening.

“What are your plans tonight?” Erin asked, wondering how much of the truth she was about to hear.

“I know you're gonna be as shocked as me but the Cinema 10 is actually playing _Shaft_. So we’re gonna go and see it and just hang out.”

The Cinema 10 was a big movie theater on the highway between Cambridge and Forest Grove. It wasn’t just 10 movie theaters but also a Game Land, a couple of eateries, and a whole host of things for younger and older people to do on almost any night of the week. Emily didn’t have a car though so Erin wanted to know who she was going with and what time the movie was starting.

“The show starts at 7:00.” She replied. “I'm going with Jordan, Owen, and um…Ian Doyle’s coming too.”

“Emily, he is too old for you.” Erin sighed. “We’ve had this conversation a million times.”

“Ian and I are just acquaintances. It’s nothing more than that, cross my heart. I just wanna go to the movies and have a good time. I'm not up to anything.”

“Just because you aren’t doesn’t mean he isn’t.”

Ian Doyle was 19 years old and Erin didn’t like him one bit. He lived with his Uncle and Aunt a few miles from where Emily and Erin lived. The rumor was, and she wasn’t fond of rumors, he was shipped from Belfast at 13 because he was out of control. Why should he be any different in Cambridge? She knew for a fact that his grades were atrocious. He finally graduated from high school after repeating 11th grade. He’d had a few scrapes with the local cops, and he most surely was involved in drug use.

She didn’t want her niece anywhere near him. Emily was practically 15, it was clear she was done with tea parties and dolls. But Ian Doyle was a little too tattoos and metal music for Erin’s taste. This was where putting her foot down came into play. This is where she and her niece sometimes clashed.

“I want to see the movie, Aunt Erin.” Emily said. “I want to go out with friends and have a good time. It’s a small town; there isn’t a ton to do.”

“I want you in this house by 10 o’clock. I don’t care if it’s unhip; that’s how it’s going to be. Its ten o’clock or you're staying home.”

Emily sighed loudly but nodded. The movie was about ninety minutes so that still gave her a little over an hour to have some fun. She was sure, almost sure, that Aunt Erin wouldn’t have her hide for being a couple of minutes late.

“Ten o’clock, I hear you. I totally hear you. That’s fine cuz I really just want to go out and have a little fun with my pals.”

“Alright.” Erin conceded, a little upset with herself but not knowing what else to do. She turned to look at her niece. “How do I look?”

“Are you kidding me? You’re a total temptress. You'll leave that dinner with at least three phone numbers.” Emily nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it were five.”

“Oh please.” Erin smiled as she came into her bedroom, slipped into her red high heels and grabbed her clutch purse.

It was mid-June so she wore a red Kenneth Cole cocktail dress with a black bolero jacket. Her nearly shoulder length blonde hair was parted on the side and flipped on the ends. Diamonds were in her ears, on her wrist, and around her neck. Her heels were Jimmy Choo peep toes, which fit her mood. Erin was in the mood to be witty and flirty tonight.

It wasn’t a date but it had been forever and a day since she had one. Emily was right, she was a workaholic. She’d practically become what she was when she was still living in DC. She didn’t have a life. There had been one some years back, when Emily was still in middle school.

Erin thought she might get serious with Evan Davenport. He had two little girls, a bit younger than Emily but that wasn’t even going to stop Erin. Looking back she wasn’t quite sure if she was in love with him but the train was leaving the station and she was on it voluntarily. Then politics derailed her once again. Evan got so wrapped up in hobnobbing for a Circuit Court judge position.

He suddenly didn’t have time for love and happiness. He had time for photo ops and politics though. Erin couldn’t be sure if he wanted her because she was Erin or because, despite her married last name, she was still a Prentiss. And being a Prentiss almost anywhere in the world was still a very big deal. She cried the night she gave the engagement ring back. After that Erin closed up that side of her heart, put it in a box, and got on with her life.

“Have a good time with your friends tonight.” Erin said as she walked down the stairs. Emily was right behind her. “Don’t get into any trouble…please.”

“Everything is under control, Aunt Erin. I want you to have fun tonight as well. Don’t spend your evening worried about me. Spread the charm, do that laugh you do; make the men go crazy.”

“Mmm hmm.” She turned and kissed Emily’s cheek. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

Erin opened her front door, stepped out on the porch, and she saw him. She couldn’t even believe what she was seeing…it had to be a figment of her imagination. David Rossi was standing on her bottom step. He looked older but not much different. He was still tall, dark, and handsome. What the hell was he doing on her front steps? Maybe Erin would ask him if her voice ever came back.

“Hi.” He said, as if he’d seen her just a couple of days ago. He decided as soon as he got into town that the best way to go about this was as casual as possible.

“Hi.” She went straight down the steps and into his arms. Dave held her close and she inhaled the scent of him. Oh dear God, he still smelled as good as she remembered. He was making her knees weak. “David…”

He shuddered when she said his name. He hadn't heard it in so long. How had he gone so long without that voice? How come he barely remembered how her curves felt in his arms? The memories were powerful; they almost knocked him to the ground.

“What the hell?” Emily came out on the porch. “Who is this?”

“Emily,” Erin pulled away from Dave and looked at her niece. “This is an old friend of mine, David Rossi. We knew each other a long time ago.”

“You told me that you didn’t have a date tonight.”

“I don’t, I…I have no idea what he's doing here.”

“Don’t be shy now, David.” Emily pressed.

Dave smiled some. Wow, Emily Prentiss had really grown up. She was obviously outspoken; had surely gotten that from her Aunt. There she stood up on the porch in her denim cutoffs and bare feet; arms crossed waiting for his answer. He wasn’t going to get a moment with Erin right now. Springing this on her might not have been the best idea. She looked as if she was heading out somewhere important and he just swept in and interrupted her life.

“I'm sorry Erin.” He said. “I'm in town investigating some murders. I'm sure you’ve heard about them.”

“I have. I'm on my way to a dinner though and I don’t want to be late. Can we get together tomorrow? Lunch perhaps?”

“I would love nothing more.”

“OK.” She hugged him again and kissed his cheek. Erin couldn’t help but caress his face. “It’s so good to see you. We’ll catch up tomorrow. Emily, that boy better be here soon or you'll be late for the movie.”

“I'm sure he's on his way. Have fun Aunt Erin.” She waved and went back into the house.

Dave stood on the step and watched her go. He’d been back in town just one day and she’d already slipped out of his grasp.

***

“Do you think that Ian Doyle is Emily’s boyfriend?” Hotch asked. “I'm starting to think he might be and it’s making me sick inside.”

“You know I hate it when you ask me questions I couldn’t possibly know the answer to.” Sam replied. “You might as well ask me to calculate the distance to the moon by counting my fingers and toes.”

He bit into his chili cheeseburger and smiled. It was delicious. He grabbed a steak fry from the basket he and Hotch shared and dipped it in ketchup. The bowling alley was crowded tonight but that was nothing new. Sam’s dad Mike Kassmeyer was the owner.

He always had half-price weekends for kids 21 and under on Friday and Saturday nights. It gave them a safe place to be in a town where kids didn’t have a lot to do. In addition to the 12 lanes, there was a small game room, a jukebox, and a section for eating everything from burgers and fries to pierogies. But it wasn’t just the kids who had fun at Kassmeyer Bowl on the weekends…adults were there as well.

“Jordan Norris told me they were all going to the movies at the Cinema 10 tonight.” Hotch said. “I saw her with her mom in the supermarket this morning and that’s what she told me. And they're going to see a rated R movie…I can't take Emily to a rated R movie.”

“Firstly, those dopes at the Cinema 10 would probably let Sean into a rated R movie.” Sam replied. “Secondly, you can't take Emily out cuz you haven’t asked. Are you forgetting about that?”

“I'm no competition for the Ian Doyles of the world.” Hotch mumbled, eating his chicken fingers.

“Be confident, Hotch; you're awesome. It doesn’t have to be a big production you know. What about the fireworks? You can invite Emily to come to the fireworks with all of us. That’s not quite a date and other people will be around in case you get nervous or something.”

Hotch thought that might not be a bad idea. Independence Day was just over two weeks away. It was always a big deal in Cambridge, with picnics, music, and fireworks in Settlement Park. The whole town would be there so it wasn’t as if asking Emily would look like a date or anything. A bunch of teens usually went together so it was safe.

“I'm gonna do it.” Hotch smiled and his dimples showed. “I'm totally going to ask her the next time I see her. Even if Ian Doyle wants to take her; I'm going to ask her first.”

“I honestly don’t think Ian’s her boyfriend.” Sam replied. “They don’t have…”

He just stopped talking suddenly. Sam opened his mouth to finish his sentence but nothing came out. Hotch looked at him funny, waving his hand in his face as he laughed some. But Sam was gone. Finally Hotch turned to see what his best friend was looking at. Jessie Brooks had just come into the bowling alley with Desi Morgan. They were giggling about something and Jessie wore a big, bright smile as they got closer.

“Hi Hotch.” she said. “Hey Sam.”

“Um…hey Jess.”

“How are you?”

“I'm, um…I'm good. You?”

“I'm fine. Are you bowling tonight?”

“I'm kinda just hanging out.” Sam took a deep breath as his voice and confidence came back. “But I’ll be here awhile.”

“You should come over to our lane and hang out.” Jessie replied. She looked at Hotch. “You too, Hotch. We’re just hanging out too.”

Hotch nodded and Sam just replied with a toothy grin. As she and Desi walked away, he held up his hand to wave like a fool.

“One day I'm not gonna make an ass of myself in front of her.” Sam put his hand over his face. “It might be one day a long time from now but it will happen.”

“I don’t get it Sam. It’s so clear that Jessie has a thing for you. Check it out; she's watching you from the shoe counter.”

Sure enough, Jessie and Desi both were still looking at the two boys as they rented their shoes. Sam just smiled and Jessie’s smile matched his.

“I wish Emily would smile at me that way.” Hotch shook his head. “You're a lucky dude.”

“Lucky? Every time I'm within five feet of her, I get tongue tied and stupid. Last week she asked me how I was and I told her I didn’t know. What's that? Hormones suck.”

“Speak for yourself.” Hotch replied. “They seem to suit some of us just fine.”

Hotch and Sam looked out at the crowded bowling alley at Derek Morgan. He was out there getting his socialize on, as he called it. No high school girl was off limits. It may have been a small town but Derek had a big personality.

People, girls especially, gravitated towards him. He didn’t mind hanging out and holding court though he didn’t have a conceited bone in his body. Morgan was just popular. He was also smart, athletic, empathetic, and fun.

“C'mon, lets get out there and have some fun too.” Sam patted his best friend’s shoulder. “It’s Saturday night; it’s our time.”

Hotch nodded, hoping off the stool and making his way into the thick of the crowd.

000

“You didn’t have to come out tonight if you weren't in the mood.” Spencer Reid said.

He’d just given Pole Position a run for its money but it really wasn’t the same without the enthusiastic whooping and hollering of his best friend. Ashley was much more subdued tonight than usual. Actually, subdued was never a word anyone would use to describe her. Spencer was worried about her, knew what she was going through, but didn’t know how to make it better.

“The walls were closing in on me in the trailer.” Ashley replied. “Plus I think my sadness was getting to Charlie…I didn’t want him putting a pillow over my face.”

“You're joking right?”

“Yeah Spencer, I'm joking.” She nodded. “Sorry I'm not the best company tonight.”

“You're my best friend. It doesn’t always have to be about fun. I'm here for you no matter what.”

“Thanks.”

Ashley just didn’t have it in her tonight. The death, murder, of Amanda Gilroy was still fresh. She kept trying to forget about it and focus on something else. It should've been easy as summertime in Cambridge was always Ashley’s favorite time of the year. It was all about biking, swimming, some fishing, skating…so much activity and all the time in the world to do it.

This summer was supposed to be even more fun-filled as Ashley had recently been accepted into the middle school’s mentally gifted program. She was going to skip sixth grade and start seventh next year. It was an academically intense program; the weak hearted need not apply. Ashley wanted to make sure she had all the fun she could before books took over her life.

“What do you know about serial killers, Spencer?” Ashley asked as they moved over to the air hockey table. She put in two quarters and grabbed a mallet as the puck dropped down.

“They're like snowflakes.” He replied, asking if she wanted to do a coin toss for who was going first.

Ashley shook her head and slid the puck toward him.

“What does that mean; that they're like snowflakes?”

“Well, all snowflakes are different. So is every serial killer. They may have similar M.O.s and pathologies but each one has something that makes them special. It’s called a signature. My Uncle Jason studies them for a living.”

“Seriously?” Ashley was so interested that she missed covering her goal. The first point went to Spencer.

“Mmm hmm.” He nodded. “He's in town investigating what's been going on the past couple of months.”

“So it is a serial killer?” she asked, taking the second point.

“I don't know.” Spencer shrugged. “Uncle Jason will find out though. He's a famous profiler.”

“Shut up! What the hell, Spencer? We’ve been friends for a year and a half and I didn’t know your Uncle was a profiler.”

“Is that such a big deal?”

“Of course it’s a big deal. Profilers chase serial killers and stuff. Haven’t you ever seen _The Silence of the Lambs_?” Ashley took the third point as well.

“No. My parents would never let me watch something like that.”

“Wow, a real live FBI agent. Can I meet him?”

“Sure.” Spencer managed to protect his goal from losing another point. “He's famous and really good at what he does. He talks all over the world about criminals and the psychopathy of the serial killer in particular.”

Ashley filed away the word psychopathy to look up later. She didn’t always like asking Spencer what words meant. She was smart too and needed to start looking up things for herself. Charlie would be glad to see her use that big ass Oxford English Dictionary for something other than holding her bedroom door open.

“I hope when they catch this person he gets the chair.” She replied.

“Actually, lethal injection is the method most used in states that currently allow the death penalty.” Spencer said. “But electrocution is second.”

“It’s just an expression, Spencer.”

“Oh.”

The conversation faded after that as they kept playing air hockey. At least it was something they could do together and Spencer felt like he was helping Ashley feel better in some way. It was difficult to go on with the normal happenings of life when something bad permeated the community. Most of the kids didn’t know what else to do. Everyone wanted to talk about it while at the same time fearing that doing so made it all the more real.

***

He turned down old school Motley Crue, Shout at the Devil, as he turned into the cul-de-sac of Macintosh Drive. He parked his maroon 1984 Buick Regal with primer flames and silver rims in front of her house. Erin’s BMW wasn’t in the driveway or on the street.

“With eleven minutes to spare.” Ian said, looking at his car clock. “I think Aunt Erin owes me a pat on the back.”

“I think you have a better chance of winning the Powerball.”

“She fuckin hates me. She thinks I'm a lowlife drug dealer.”

“You're not a lowlife, Ian. And you do sell drugs but its just weed. It’s not like you're getting kids hooked on crack or something. You provide a much-needed service in this Podunk town and don’t let anyone tell you different.”

“Your Aunt hating me makes it difficult to see you.” Ian replied. “We’ve work around it but I know she rides you a lot.”

“Mmm hmm,” Emily nodded. “But I like your company so…”

“I wouldn’t know that.”

“Oh don’t start.” She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Don’t start what? You’re a tease, Emily Prentiss. You take me there and it drives me crazy and I just want to give as good as I get but I'm rejected at every turn. It hurts a guy’s feelings.”

“I can tell. You're all sensitive and shit, Ian.”

“Just be my girl and stop the bullshit.”

“Oh wow, you're sensitive and romantic.” She smirked. “I blow you; I don’t need to be your girl.”

“It’s about more than sex.” Ian reasoned.

“Really, is that why we spend so much time in the backseat?”

“You haven’t let me fuck you and I still come around. It’s about more than sex.”

“That’s because you're hopeful. It must be an Irish thing.”

Ian just shook his head. He didn’t know what it was about the girl but he was crazy about her. It wasn’t some together forever shit like a lot of silly teenagers in this town. But he wasn’t going to cut and run when he finally got some ass. And he’d get some ass.

It wasn’t just about perseverance, which he had in spades. He was smooth, he was attractive, he had a hot car, and she dug him. Emily never gave anyone the upper hand. Ian usually couldn’t stand playing a game he couldn’t win. He would win by any means necessary.

With Emily he was just enraptured, plain and simple. If he could’ve controlled it or stopped it, he definitely would have. The Emily thing came on him out of nowhere. She didn’t have to know that though. He preferred to play it cool, calm, and collected. Being enraptured didn’t mean being in love; Ian didn’t believe in all that. She just annoyed him less than most people.

“Think of it this way…you let me fuck you and then I can stop asking you to let me fuck you.” he said.

“I suck your cock, isn’t that enough?”

“Its nice.” Ian conceded.

“Then shut up.”

“Did you have fun tonight?” Ian asked as she was getting out of the car. Emily turned back to look at him.

“Yeah. It was a good flick, which I knew it would be. I just wanted Jordan and Owen to be able to hang out tonight. Her dad is such a fuckin douchebag tool.”

“Owen’s isn’t the greatest either. Talk about douchebags…all he gives a fuck about is the Marines. He's pushing Owen to join up after high school. They’ll beat the shit out of him if he does.”

“God,” Emily shook her head. “Just when you think your life sucks, you realize other people have it much worse.”

“What problems are you dealing with, princess? You can lean on me.”

“Fuck you.” she put up her middle finger.

“That’s what I’ve been saying this entire time. You just like to pretend we’re not on the same page.”

“Goodnight, Ian.” Emily leaned back in to kiss him.

She let out a little yelp of surprise as Ian pulled her closer. Somehow she ended up straddling him as their kisses intensified. The passenger side door was wide open; anyone walking by could see them. Luckily this neighborhood rolled up the sidewalks at about nine, even on the weekends. Emily tried to breathe but she found herself pulling Ian closer instead of pushing him away.

Damn, he was a good kisser. She loved the boy’s tongue. Between her lips or between her thighs, Ian knew what he was doing. She actually liked him too. She would probably fuck him…eventually. The way she shivered when he ran his fingers through her hair let her know that the feelings were real.

Emily just didn’t want Ian thinking he was first in the running for her prized virginity. She was a popular girl and there were lots of guys trying to take her out. Most she had a healthy disdain for; small town dolts weren't really her thing. But there were a few even older than Ian who had approached her in the recent past. If her Aunt, or the cops, knew about that there might be some serious trouble.

“Goddamn,” he murmured, almost sounding angry as their lips came apart. “I fuckin want you.”

“You know I gotta go. My Aunt will kill me if I'm late. She hardly wanted to let me come out tonight.”

“She's not even here.” Ian’s hands moved up her camouflaged tank top and caressed her bare back. “Don’t go yet, baby, I'm just getting started.”

“Knowing Aunt Erin she could’ve parked around the corner to throw me off. I bet some nosy ass neighbor is watching us right now and reporting all of this back to her.”

“Put your head in my lap…give her something to gossip about.”

“Goodnight, asshole.” She kissed his nose, gently bit it, climbed off him, and slid out of the passenger seat.”

Emily closed the door and went up the steps to her house. The security screen door was locked; she unlocked it, and walked into her unlocked front door. Emily gave a little wave. She liked that Ian always waited until she was inside before pulling off. He didn’t even care if Erin was glaring at him the whole time, which she usually was, he still stayed.

Yeah, he was an asshole in some ways but he was just her style in many others. That didn’t mean she wanted to be tied down or known to him or anyone else as Doyle’s girl. Emily Prentiss was her own woman. She did what she wanted when she wanted. And when the time came to do Ian Doyle, she would do that too.

***

“OK, now that the culture shock is starting to wear off…what do we have?”

Dave and Jason sat in the kitchen at Mrs. Clemmons’ rooming house on Sunday night. It was after nine, which was the time she went to bed every night. She told them to feel free to have a bite to eat and do what they needed to do. They weren't going to disturb her at all as she slept like the dead. Her late husband Pete, God rest his soul, snored like a freight train. Mrs. Clemmons was almost sure she’d sleep through the second coming.

“We have four dead women and a town full of suspects.” Jason replied sipping his tea. “Any man in town could’ve done this.”

“What do you think of Charlie Beauchamp?”

“Well we can physically connect him to one victim. Everyone knows Amanda was tutoring his daughter. The whole town also knows he solicits prostitutes in Portland, where Marci Mitchell came from. We need to find out if he knew her. What I don’t understand is why Barton and Morgan didn’t do that if he was their main person of interest.”

“Its simple.” Dave replied. “The moment they bring him in, in the town’s eyes he’s a serial killer. Nothing he ever does in his life will change their initial perception. He and his child will become pariahs. They weren't willing to take that chance without some damn compelling evidence. I respect them for that.”

“Then how do you think the town will react when the FBI questions him?” Jason asked.

“We’ll just have to do it under the guise of something else. Tomorrow is Amanda’s funeral so we’re not going to be able to talk to anyone. We go over what we have tonight and then we jump back in Tuesday. There are two main priorities…Marci and Amanda. Julie and Kelly are important too but right now those two victims may be connected to one man.”

“Today at the station I checked out some of the usual suspects to see if anything in their records leaned toward what we were looking for. There were a few rapists in there but three are still in jail and one was never charged. I think this Unsub has been building for a while. He definitely didn’t start out as a rapist. He's probably a stalker, a porn aficionado, and a peeping Tom.

“I also believe he might be married, probably between 30 and 50, and pushing his wife into a sexual relationship she's completely uncomfortable with. Either that or their sex life went from relatively normal to practically nonexistent as he slipped deeper into his fantasy. Also, other than Amanda Gilroy the women he murdered were on the fringes. While Doc Rawlings didn’t think so, I do.”

“30 to 50 still puts Charlie Beauchamp in the running but the rest of the profile doesn’t fit him at all.” Dave said. “You and I both think this Unsub will be a supposed upstanding member of this society and that doesn’t fit Charlie either. Still, I'm not ruling him out without an interview. Why do you think the other two victims were on the fringes?”

“Marci was a prostitute. Julie was a new girl and didn’t have many town connections, and Kelly was depressed and going through a custody battle. They were all vulnerable. Maybe Amanda was in some way too and while we don’t know it, the Unsub does because everyone knows something in a small town.”

“It’s going to be difficult to get dirt on the high school homecoming queen.” Dave replied.

“I understand that. But Amanda had close friends I'm sure, and we’re going to talk to them. We only have to crack the dam…all the water will come gushing out on its own.”

“And then some people are going to drown.”

“We’re here to solve a case, Dave.”

“I know, and I'm with you. It’s just horrible to think about what it might do to this town by the time it’s all said and done.”

“Weren't you supposed to see Erin this afternoon?” Jason asked. He wasn’t going to but he knew his friend was supposed to have lunch with his long ago love.

“She canceled at the last minute. She said she wasn’t feeling good. I don’t quite believe her; I could always tell when Erin wasn’t telling the truth. All I can figure is that she doesn’t want to see me for some reason. It’s been eight years Jason…what the hell did I think I was doing dropping back into her life anyway?”

Jason nodded, but didn’t say anything. He knew a big part of the reason Dave got on that jet was to see Erin again. Maybe it was his own fault for asking him to come. But Jason would've felt awful knowing he was that close to Erin and didn’t tell his best friend. Despite how well Dave could play the lothario, Jason knew he’d been in love with Erin all those years back.

Did the reunion mean they were going to run into each other’s arms and live happily ever after? It didn’t mean that at all. But Dave deserved to have that chance to know that. So did Erin as a matter of fact. There were four women who would probably now say that life was too short not to go after something that you really wanted.

“On Tuesday, I’ll talk to the Gilroys and you take Charlie Beauchamp.” Jason said. “He works out on the highway so it may be easier to speak to him without it filtering back in town.”

“Alright.” Dave nodded. “If we strike out with him this could be a long ass summer.”

***

Jason stopped the SUV in the middle of the street when he saw two teenage girls walking. They were both dressed in casual sundresses, eating popsicles, and talking amiably amongst themselves. Today had been Amanda Gilroy’s funeral…the air in town was quiet. Some would say the sky was a little less blue.

“Excuse me?” Jason stopped them. “I know this might sound weird but I think I'm lost. I'm looking for Pap’s Pizza.”

The dark haired girl just looked at him. She had a combination of curiosity, smugness, and annoyance on her face. Jason didn’t know how she did it but she pulled it off brilliantly. She looked to be maybe 15 or 16 but could definitely pass for over 21 with the right outfit and makeup.

He was sure she knew that as well as he did. Her friend, a sweet-faced sunshine blonde, looked her age. She might want to try to look like a grownup too but 15 was the oldest she’d look for a little while. Jason nearly smiled; they looked like actors plucked from a movie about small town girls.

“My Aunt told me that I'm not allowed to talk to strangers.” The dark hair girl replied. “I don't know if you’ve heard but there's a killer on the loose. How do I know its not you?”

Jason reached into his back pocket and pulled out his ID. He held it out the window.

“I'm Supervisory Special Agent Jason Gideon.” He said.

“Oh my God,” the blonde practically squealed. “He’s in the FBI, Em! I knew they'd come to town.”

The two girls walked over to the SUV. The one called Em stared at the ID.

“You're here to find out who killed Amanda?” she asked.

“Yes. I'm here to find out who killed Marci, Kelly, and Julie as well.” he replied.

“Look into Raphael Hankel.” The blonde said. “He's so creepy.”

Her friend laughed and that made Jason smile. He hadn't heard such a joyous sound in some time. His job didn’t lend to many happy times.

“I'm Emily, and this is Jordan. Raphael Hankel is creepy but it would be a total cliché for him to be a serial killer. Also, even though I hate admitting Jill might be right about anything, no self-respecting woman would ever get into his car. He’s got torture chamber basement written all over him. I mean, Bundy was a babe right? That’s how he did his thing.”

“Bundy was a psychopath.” Jason replied. “He used his relatively good looks and a feigned injury to lure as many as 100 women to their untimely demise.”

“Did you know him?” Jordan asked.

“I did a few interviews with him, yes.” He nodded.

“Holy moly! Did you know Hannibal Lecter too?”

“Jordan,” Emily replied gently. “Hannibal Lecter’s not real. We talked about that, remember?”

“Oh yeah.” she seemed a little disappointed. “I guess you don’t know him, huh Agent Gideon?”

“No. But my teammate did some consulting for that film. I don’t want to take up too much more of your time so…”

“Oh right, Pap’s.” Emily smiled again. “Drive down two stop signs, turn left and go down another two stop lights. It has the Italian flag outside the door. The meatosaurus is really awesome.”

“I'm sure there are things on there I can't eat.” Jason replied.

“Why not?” Jordan asked. “Are you a veggiesaurus?”

That question made her giggle. Jason didn’t quite get it but he was sure she did and her delight was delightful. Jordan seemed much more childlike than her friend but Emily was protective.

“I'm Jewish. I don’t eat pork.” He said.

“Oh yeah, no meatosaurus for you.” Emily said. “The cheese invasion might be your speed.”

“Thank you ladies.” He managed a smile. “Have a good day.”

“I hope you find the killer.” Jordan said. “We’ll answer any questions you have for us.”

“Well, I don’t know.” Emily said. “I might have to consult my attorney before any questioning takes place.”

Jason smiled, rolling up his window and driving away. He knew most people in Cambridge wouldn’t be as open to him as Emily and Jordan were. Still, it might be worth suggesting to Dave that they talk to some young people. They knew just as much, if not more, than adults. And they had fewer secrets to keep. It would have to stay casual, anything more would have to involve parents they were trying to go around in the first place. Perhaps Emily would be his first stop.

***

“Charlie Beauchamp?” Dave asked as Charlie walked out of the garage. He watched the redhead light a cigarette before he looked him up and down.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Dave Rossi,” he lowered his voice as he pulled out his ID. “FBI.”

“You’ve got to be fuckin kidding me.” Charlie sighed as he blew out smoke from his Marlboro. “I don’t have any reason to be talking to the FBI.”

“Did you suspect you were a person of interest in this case?” Dave asked.

“I know the cops don’t like me. I didn’t kill anyone and that’s all I have to say. You have no right to make me talk to you.”

“Look Charlie, four women are dead and there’s a strong possibility you were physically and intimately connected to two of them.”

“Bullshit.” He spat.

“If I take you in to the police station, the whole town will think you did it. I heard you’ve lived here all your life…you know what that means.”

“Are you threatening me, pal?”

“No, I'm trying to do this the best way I know how. I want to talk to you. I think it’s in your best interest to talk to me. If you didn’t do it, then we cross your name off the list and find the real killer. But if you force me to do this the hard way, I’ll have to place you under arrest. Its pretty much hell in a hand basket after that.”

“Don’t pretend to give a fuck about me.” Charlie said.

“I don’t know you.” Rossi shrugged. “But I know that you're someone’s dad. If you haven’t done anything, get your name off this list…for your kid’s sake.”

“You don’t know a goddamn thing about my kid.” Charlie did his best to hold his temper.

He didn’t want to end up getting arrested anyway for some stupid shit. He was surprised that the police hadn't already dragged him in behind Marci. It seemed like every morning he woke up he was waiting for it to happen. Now this FBI agent was telling him they suspected he was intimate with two of the victims. That had to mean they thought he was guilty. As much as Charlie hated it, it was in his best interest to talk to them.

“No, I don’t.” Rossi shook his head. “But I need to know some things about you, Charlie.”

“I don’t get off work for another two hours. If I don’t work I don’t get paid so…”

“Come to the police station after work. We’ll talk and then you're free to go.”

“Why do those sound like famous last words.” Charlie mumbled.

“We can get the hard part out of the way right now.” Dave said. “Did you kill those women, Charlie?”

“No.” he took a deep inhale of his cigarette. “I’ll come to the station and talk to you, Agent Rossi. But I'm only talking to you. I don’t like the damn cops. Morgan tends to be more fair than most of them but I'm not talking to him either.”

“Fine, then it'll be you and me in two hours.”

“Fine.” Charlie crushed his cigarette under his boot and went back into the garage.

Dave watched a big, black man come over and talk to him. Their body language seemed comfortable and after Charlie spoke, the man looked out at Dave. Not knowing what else to do, Dave waved. The man seemed unimpressed. He put his arm around Charlie’s shoulder and they walked deeper into the garage.

000

“You have the right to an attorney.” Dave said two and a half hours later when he was sitting in a small interrogation room with Charlie Beauchamp.

“I'm not under arrest am I?”

“Nope.”

“Then let’s get this over with. I can walk out at any time and plan to exercise that right if need be.”

“Were you intimately acquainted with Marci Mitchell?” Dave asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you care to elaborate?”

“Elaborate on what? I paid her money for sex. You know she's a prostitute.”

“Charlie, you don’t have to be so bitter. I'm just asking questions. I'm doing this to clear you, not the other way around.”

“If you know I didn’t do anything then why all this?”

“We have to. Four women are dead…we have to question everyone. Just be truthful, don’t bullshit me, and we can move on.”

“You don’t even know me.” Charlie said. “Why do you think I'm innocent?”

“You don’t fit the profile.”

“Oh God, you sound like my kid.”

“What do you mean?” Dave asked.

“Well she's into all that procedural and serial killer profiling stuff. I try to get her to watch other stuff on TV but she loves trying to solve the crime before the cops do. She’s smart as shit, smarter than I could ever be, but I really wish she’d watch something else sometimes. As sad as it is I'm hopeful that it hitting too close to home might turn her off to it.”

“OK, so you solicited Marci Mitchell?” Dave got back to the questioning.

“Yes. I didn’t just go to different, unknown women. There were two or three over the years and I can admit Marci was my favorite. I knew she had some kids; I’d slip her a little extra when I could. Look, I'm no Richard Gere and she wasn’t Julia Roberts but maybe in another life it coulda been something nicer than what it had to be.”

“Were you ever sexual with Julie Riley, Kelly Dalton, or Amanda Gilroy?”

“No.” Charlie shook his head.

“Amanda Gilroy spent a lot of time at your house.”

“She was with my kid, for Christ’s sake. And I usually wasn’t there when she was. I work a lot of hours; my job ain't always nine to five. When I was around, they met at the library. I don’t wanna say Amanda didn’t like me but she was kinda wary of being alone in a house with a man she didn’t know well. She wasn’t one of those dumbass small town chicks you see on TV.”

“So you never touched her?”

“No.” Charlie reiterated.

“Did you know any of Marci’s other johns?”

“No.”

“How did she end up dead on the outskirts of your town, Charlie?” Dave asked.

“I don't know man. If I knew what happened I would tell you. She wasn’t just some trick…she was a decent human being. She was just trying to live and make ends meet however she could. For someone to snuff her out is fucked up.”

“Why don’t you just date? What's so fascinating about prostitutes?”

“There’s nothing fascinating about them. They don’t ask a lot of questions. They don’t judge you on shit your dad did 20 years ago. They handle their business and walk away. I would love to find a decent mom for my kid. But I figured out a long time ago that woman is not in Cambridge.”

“That must've upset you.” Dave said.

“Yeah, look at my face…I can't stop crying. Do you have anymore questions?”

“Not right now.”

“You still don’t think I did it?” Charlie asked.

“No, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean other people feel the same way. Do you have any thoughts about who may be responsible?”

“All I can tell you is that no one in this town is what they appear to be on the surface. The few real people around here are the outcasts because they ruin the false tranquil beauty of the place. Whoever this monster is his mask is so well fitted, it'll take a chisel to remove.”

“Actually, the mask is slipping Charlie. Pretty soon he’s going to be obvious to everyone.”

***

“Excuse me sir.” Jason stopped the man getting out of his car as he came from the Gilroy residence.

It was hard to talk to Amanda’s parents; they were still reeling from their loss. She’d been their only daughter and they were quite proud of all she accomplished. The house seemed to be a shrine to her and Jason didn’t think that was in the wake of her recent death. She had two successful older brothers as well but they settled for smaller photos on the mantelpiece.

“Can I help you?” the man asked.

He was average height, average build, and just all around average. Jason still studied his body language intently. He seemed tired but other than that nothing about him stood out. That was both interesting and uninteresting.

“I'm Special Agent Jason Gideon with the FBI.” Jason extended his hand.

“Stephen Baleman.” He shook Jason’s hand. “So the rumor about the FBI being in town was true.”

“Here I am.” He gave a small smile. “I was just trying to get some information about Amanda from friends and neighbors. Where do you live, sir?”

“Right there.” he pointed to the house directly behind them.

“How long have you lived across the street from the Gilroys?” Jason asked.

“Well my oldest son just turned twelve so that would be ten years.”

“Were you close to Amanda?”

“Close, no, but very well acquainted. She was the best babysitter in town. She rarely had a free Friday or Saturday night all through high school. I think she was able to use all the money she made to pay for at least one year of college.” Baleman smiled. “She was a good girl. She wasn’t out here doing what some of these kids are doing now.”

“Did she date much to your knowledge?”

“I really don’t know. When she spent most of her time in my house she was 16 and 17. As I said it was on weekends so I can't imagine a boyfriend liking that too much. These guys around here didn’t understand Amanda.”

“What do you mean?” that statement piqued Jason’s interest.

“She was a small town girl to the core, but she had big city dreams. For now she was content to help the children in Forest Grove and here in Cambridge but her real desire was to go to a big city. She talked about Boston, Philly, or Baltimore.”

“She talked to you about her dreams?”

“I guess she did a little.” He smiled. “I wasn’t from around here so maybe she just needed a sounding board who wouldn’t convince her to stay no matter what. My dad was in the military so I grew up all over the United States. That fascinated her.”

“Well she was no longer busy with babysitting.” Jason said. “Is it possible she was seeing someone now? I know she still lived at home so I can imagine you two talked on occasion.”

“Not about that kind of thing, Agent Gideon. Some things are personal; particularly for women. I do know she was a little weirded out by Charlie Beauchamp. I don’t like people telling tales out of school but she was helping his daughter Ashley with some school work. She didn’t like the way Charlie looked at her. She turned down a ride home from him several times.”

“Did he not like taking no for an answer?”

“I honestly don’t know.” Baleman shrugged. “He’s a keep to himself type and I've never really had a problem with him. I know if Amanda was getting the creeps from him, it was probably for a good reason. She was an excellent judge of character.”

“Not entirely, Mr. Baleman. She only had to trust the wrong person once for us to be having this conversation.”

“I guess you're right. Is there anything else? My wife hates when I'm late for dinner and I hate disappointing my wife.” His smile was charming but slightly hollow.

Jason thought he might be the kind of man who smiled a lot while hating his entire life. That didn’t make him a murderer; that just made him like a lot of other men.

“You’ve been very helpful; thank you.” Jason replied.

“I didn’t think I was but if you say so then that makes me happy. Have a good night.”

He watched Baleman walk up his walkway and into his home. No one was ever privy to what happened behind closed doors. Someone could seem perfect, ambitious, or happy when they were nothing of the sort. So far there wasn’t a soul who could find something bad to say about Amanda Gilroy.

It was altogether possible this crime wasn’t committed out of hate but perhaps love. It would be quite a twisted kind but Jason found that to be the case more often than people wanted to believe. The line between love, obsession, hate, and rage was razor thin. Amanda Gilroy and the three other victims knew that now.

***

“Hey Emily.”

“Oh my God,” she covered her wildly beating heart as she turned around and saw Aaron Hotchner. “You scared me.”

“I didn’t mean to. What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

She was standing under the awning at the diner. It was raining and she’d just watched Jason Gideon go into the hardware store. She was on her way over there to spy when Hotch arrived.

“I have an umbrella if you don’t want to get wet.” He smiled and his dimples showed. He thought he might sound like an ass but at least he was speaking in complete sentences. That was a victory.

“That’s sweet of you but I don’t mind a little water. I know this summer has been ridiculous with the rain. We never get this much around here.”

“I know. The Weather Channel said it was El Nino. There are going to be more storms, hurricanes, tornadoes and everything this season.”

“That sounds apocalyptic.” Emily smiled.

“I guess we better just be glad we don’t live someplace where those things happen frequently.”

“Yeah. Still, we’re finally free from the chains of the school year and it’s been dreary the whole time. I've spent so little time at the pool or the tennis court. You're not supposed to be trapped in the house in the summer.”

“Or under an awning.” Hotch replied.

“Exactly.” She laughed. “July 4th is coming up and we've never had a rainy July 4th. If this weather ruins the fireworks and picnic I'm gonna be pissed.”

“That would really suck. A bunch of us made plans to all go together and just hang out. Hey, you wanna come with? It's gonna be like Sam, me, Morgan…the usual suspects I guess. There will surely be girls there; Sam’s gonna ask Jessie Brooks.”

“Thanks for the offer, Hotch. I got some plans of my own though.”

“Oh.” It was impossible to hide his disappointment or not ask the next question. “Are you going out with Ian Doyle?”

“Uh huh. He knows a great spot to see the fireworks but not be so bothered by the obnoxious crowds. I'm looking forward to it. A quiet place in Cambridge is not as easy to find as people think.”

“Oh.” Hotch said it again, he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I gotta run, Hotch.” Emily had better get into that hardware store before Jason Gideon came out. “I’ll see you around?”

“Sure.” he managed a smile and watched her run across the street with a smile and a wave. Son of a bitch, he didn’t care what Sam said, Ian Doyle had to be Emily’s boyfriend. And he couldn’t compete with an Irish accent or a hot rod. There was no point in making an ass of himself anymore.

000

Emily cringed when the bell over the door rang. How was someone supposed to spy on someone else properly when they were alerted to your being close? She spotted Jason immediately and she ducked into the next aisle to watch him. He seemed to be looking at duct tape, rope, and wiring.

Was this a home improvement project or something a little kinkier? Of course he was looking for a serial killer. Emily knew criminals used duct tape to tie people up. Rope could also be used in that case.

As Jason started moving toward where she was standing, Emily backed up so she wouldn’t be seen. Then she bumped into someone.

“I'm so sorry…” she turned around. “Mr. Baleman. Sorry about that.”

“Its OK, Emily.” He smiled. “Why were you walking backwards?”

“Huh?”

“You were walking backwards down the aisle. Is everything alright?”

“Oh sure.” she smiled. “I'm just um…running some errands. In fact, I better get back to it. Bye, Mr. Baleman.”

“Goodbye, Emily.”

He waved as he watched her quickly walk away. Wondering what was going on, he checked to see where she was headed. This time she made her way onto the other side of where the FBI agent who interviewed him was standing. She seemed to be spying but wasn’t very good at it. Stephen just shook his head, grabbed what he’d come to buy, and went to the register.

***

“I don’t want you thinking that I had you drive all the way over here just so people in town wouldn’t know what we were doing.” Erin said. “Even if that’s exactly why I had you drive all the way over here.”

Dave smiled over his espresso. The truth of the matter was he didn’t give a damn where he had to drive. Erin called him. She called him and asked him to meet her in Portland for coffee. She worked in town for Cochran Publishing.

She’d been there for six years and had worked her way quickly into a senior editor position. Her job wasn’t always her favorite thing but it was something she was good at and successful with. The stress of it and the stress of politics were completely different. Despite some regrets in her life, she never regretted leaving that behind.

“I'm just glad you called.” Dave replied. “I didn’t come to Cambridge to knock you off your game, and that’s the truth. I came to find a killer.”

“I believe you. I remember at one time you were a serious workaholic, David.”

“Guilty as charged.” He smiled. “I still am. What about you?”

“Some things never change, I guess. I try to be there for Emily as much as I can be. For all intents and purposes, I'm her parent.”

“How often does she see her mom and dad?”

“Sometimes is the only answer I can give. Of course when Elizabeth is campaigning she and Gregory can be here for a few weeks or a month. And there are trips to the state for whatever. But that’s all work and they don’t often schedule time to be mom and dad. After a while I felt like they were disrupting her life more than being a part of it.”

“She seems…” he didn’t quite know what to say.

“Oh she's all that and more.” Erin replied smiling. “The simple answer is that she's a handful. But I love her to pieces and we somehow have managed not to kill each other these past nine years. My God, has it been nine years?”

“It’s been a really long time, Erin. I've missed you. I thought about you and wanted to see how you were. I just didn’t know how.”

“Well there is this great invention, it’s called the telephone.” She smiled. “I heard that if you dial numbers, people answer and you can talk to them.”

“Wow that’s awesome.”

They both laughed a little and Erin sipped her tea. She debated about whether she was going to call him at all. It had been nine years and she wasn’t sure she wanted to go there. Dave wasn’t there to stay so what were they really doing? He had a job to do and she had a life to lead and never the two shall meet again. They had their awesome moment in time but it was over.

But she couldn’t shake the feelings that overwhelmed her when she hugged him again. She couldn’t stop thinking about the sound of his voice, how he smelled, and the way she felt when he touched her. She missed him so much. When she first moved to Oregon it was almost overwhelming. She wanted to go home; wanted to be with him.

Time healed those wounds. It wasn’t meant to be…she had other obligations. The small wounds closed and Erin moved on. Then she walked out of her door on a random Saturday night and there he was. Was it fate? Was it something else? Was she being ridiculous?

She was in her 40s; acting like a schoolgirl was out of the question. Of course Dave always made her feel that way. He was fun, he was funny; he was adventurous and sexy and wild. He was nothing like her and yet she was nothing but herself with him and it was OK.

He accepted Erin. He wanted Erin. Maybe at one time he even loved Erin. All of that was a decade ago. She didn’t want her lasting memory of Dave to be trying to recreate something that didn’t exist anymore.

“I guess I could’ve called too.” she said. “I didn’t know what to say. I’d made my decision and stuck to it. I guess I figured the best thing to do was to leave it all behind. Trying to bring something to Oregon with me would just make me miss it more. I had to build a life here.”

“It looks as if you’ve done well for yourself.” Dave said. “Are you married?”

“No. Are you?”

“No.” he shook his head and laughed. “I'm still in love with being in love but…women are different now.”

“I don’t even know what to say about that. I'm busy with work and raising a teenager. Trying to find time to date is nearly out of the question. And I surely don’t want to distract you when you came here to work a case. I want those murders solved as much as everyone else in town.”

“We’re going to figure out what's going on. But I'm a multi-tasker Erin; you know that.”

“What does that mean?” she asked. Erin wasn’t going to assume anything. She didn’t want to do something that would break her heart in the end.

“Part of the reason I got on that jet was because I knew I’d see you. I couldn’t give up that opportunity. I regretted letting you walk out of my life so many times over the past nine years. I needed to see you again.”

“Here I am.”

“You're more beautiful than I remember.”

“And you still know how to say just the right thing.” She replied.

“I don’t want either one of us getting the wrong idea…”

“The truth is when the murders are solved you go back to Quantico and I stay in Cambridge. But the reality is we’re in the same town right now and I'm not going to be able to stay away from you.”

“Ditto.”

“So…” she smiled as her eyes looked away from his. She wondered if he had any idea how powerful his gaze was.

“I’ll grab the check and then we…go with the flow.”

Erin nodded, excusing herself to the ladies room. She needed to make sure everything looked alright because she knew in a matter of minutes she was going to be somewhere naked. She’d planned for it but there was no harm in double checking. She was sure David’s body was different just as hers was. Nine years was a long time.

There were men out there who still told her that she had it. Erin surely didn’t think she was an old maid even if she was. But there were probably a lot younger women clamoring for Dave’s attention. He’d always been a ladies man. For a little while, he would be hers again. Erin needed to make sure every moment was memorable for the both of them.

***

“Mr. Dalton, I really appreciate you meeting with me.” Dave shook his hand. It was the Monday after Amanda Gilroy’s funeral and there were still more questions than answers. He hoped to resolve some of that this afternoon.

“Its not a problem; and you can call me Mark. Please have a seat. You have to excuse the mess…things have been insane around here lately. It’s always like this when school lets out.”

“I don’t follow.” Dave sat down in the chair across from his desk.

“I run a video game store, Agent Rossi. We’re no longer in the era of kids going outside for fresh air and exercise. I can't complain, it keeps the bills paid, but the place can be a zoo any given summer day.”

Now Rossi understood. It was a zoo in there, the back office was a mess, and he had to watch Mark Dalton eat his lunch while they talked. Dave’s stomach was touching his back though he didn’t find whatever was in that McDonald’s bag appealing. But at least Dalton didn’t brush him off. Dave figured he was getting kind of tired of police asking him questions about his late ex-wife.

“You and your late wife…”

“Ex-wife.” Mark corrected.

“Right, ex-wife, I'm sorry. You and your ex were in a pretty contentious custody battle. Can you tell me a little about it?”

“Kelly didn’t want to give up Austin. I mean, I can't quite blame her but I think she was being selfish. She didn’t want Sandra, my new wife, to play fake mommy. Those were the exact words she used. But that wasn’t what it was about and deep down she knew it.”

“What was it about?” Dave asked.

“Kelly had issues. When you're 19, 20, and your girlfriend is wild and freaky it’s a bit of a thrill. When you're trying to be a husband and raise a family and your wife’s behavior is erratic, bordering on insane, it’s a problem. I honestly couldn’t trust that she wouldn’t hurt Austin when she was going through what she was going through. The behavior only got worse after he was born.”

“Was she diagnosed with mental illness?”

“She refused to get help. There would be weeks where Kelly seemed perfectly normal. Then out of nowhere, the monster would come out. She could drink, cry, be sexually promiscuous…I just didn’t know that person. I had to make sure my son was safe.”

“Did Kelly quit her job?” Dave asked.

“She was let go. She worked at the hotel for years and was good at what she did. Her behavior had just become even more erratic; they couldn’t trust her to come in and do her job. She blamed me sometimes; said I turned people against her. I blamed whatever she had that she wouldn’t get diagnosed.”

“What about the promiscuous sex? Was she involved with anyone you know from town?”

“Not to my knowledge. She reserved her extra curricular activities for Forest Grove. No one here knew about any of it as far as I know.”

“Yet she managed to keep her mental illness under wraps.” Dave said.

“She did for a long time, yes. Before her death I think everyone knew something was wrong but didn’t know what to say. In the last conversation we had she said she was getting help. I think she was tired of being sick too.

“Also, knowing our son was coming to fear her really hurt Kelly. She was a good woman and I loved her. I would never hurt her…I wanted her to get better. I just wanted my son to be safe.”

“Do you know of anyone who would hurt her?”

“No Agent Rossi,” Mark shook his head. “I wish I could help you. I can't believe what happened to her happened to her. Kelly would give someone the shirt off her back. She was funny and fun and vibrant and beautiful.

“She was just sick and maybe that made her more susceptible to coercion or victimization. She told me she was scared; thought that someone was watching her. At the time I passed it off as part of her illness. Maybe I was wrong.”

“You think she was being stalked?” Dave asked.

“I don't know. With Kelly you just didn’t know from one day to the next. She’d completely isolated herself from friends and family for those last couple of months. And once she lost her job and Sandra and I took Austin full-time…no one really saw her. I don’t even know if her mom would've reported her missing if Kelly hadn't called her that day and told her she was going out.

“That was strange too because I don't think she’d left the house in a week or so. I used to check on her. Sometimes she was grateful and other times she blew me off. Everyone wanted to think we hated each other but that wasn’t the truth.”

“Do you think she was meeting someone that day?”

“It’s possible. But it wasn’t any of our friends because they were all questioned by the police. At least they said it wasn’t any of them. No one we’re close to had any reason to hurt her. The person who did this is a monster.”

Dave agreed with Mark Dalton on that. But that didn’t mean that Kelly didn’t know her killer. If she was holed up in her house for over a week, what was with the sudden urge to go to Target in the next town over? It didn’t seem as if home furnishings, toys, or moderately priced clothes were high on her list of things to handle at the time.

But if her rendezvous took place in that town and she was suddenly going back…that was something they needed to look further into. Kelly Dalton had secrets. It might not be easy but Dave and Jason needed to find out whatever they could. Her killer was in her life somewhere. Dave didn’t know much but he knew that for sure. This person wasn’t a stranger to any of the women that he hurt.

000

Bethany Wallace was a pretty, petite blonde with a winning smile. She met Jason in the donut and coffee shop down the street from the bank where she worked. It was raining, again, and she just didn’t feel comfortable talking to him in or around there.

Jason understood her dilemma. In a small town there were ears everywhere. There were probably ears in the donut shop as well but at least it was dry and she could drink coffee. Four creams and five Splenda later, she took a deep breath and smiled again.

“This stuff makes me life better.” She said sipping her coffee.

“Coffee?” Jason asked.

“No,” she laughed. “I was talking about Splenda. I'm a diabetic so no sugar for me. I was always the weird kid in class who had to eat different foods and do different things. With Splenda I almost feel normal.”

“Feeling normal must be very important in a small town.”

“Actually, I find the opposite to be true. It was nice being different from all the other kids. Places like Cambridge can become like Stepford if you're not careful. At least on the surface they can anyway. No matter how shiny a rock is, you're gonna turn it over and find maggots.”

“I couldn’t have thought of a better analogy myself.”

“Blame my dad…he's the king of analogies. It’s annoying and endearing all in the same breath. Anyway, you didn’t come here to talk about me. You wanted to ask questions about Julie?”

“Were you her only friend in town?” Jason asked.

“Kind of. It’s hard to come to someplace like Cambridge and just meet people. She transferred from a bank branch in Phoenix…I think she was running away from something. She never really talked about it though. Julie always just said she needed a change.”

“Did she find it here?”

“She worked here, she lived here, but she conducted a lot of her life in Forest Grove. Cambridge doesn’t have much nightlife. That’s how they think they can stay safe. There are four places that serve alcohol in the whole town and they’re all closed by midnight. So if you're looking for fun you're going to Forest Grove or Portland. Portland is a bit too far to drive for martinis and dancing.”

“Did you party with Julie?”

“Not all the time but at least every other week we were going to a club or a bar out of town. She just liked to let her hair down. She liked to flirt and have a good time but I think deep down she wanted more.”

“What did she want more of?”

“Unfortunately, Julie was one of those women who equated sex with love. I think she was just so lonely. She would meet a man, it would be hot and heavy for a few months, and then he was in the wind. She wanted the man, the kids, the picket fence, and the happiness. I think she was someone who wanted what she thought she couldn’t have or wasn’t worthy of. It’s a damn shame she didn’t know how awesome she was.”

“Was Julie seeing anyone around the time she died?” Jason asked.

“I'm not sure.” Bethany said. “I had a feeling there was someone but she was being more secretive than usual. And if you knew how secretive Julie could be…this time she was being KGB secretive.”

“And you asked her about it?”

“Yeah, I did. Julie was my friend and I didn’t want her getting into something that was going to be difficult to get out of. She kept assuring me that she was OK but…now we know she wasn’t. I think she was having an affair with a married man.”

“Do you think he was local or from Forest Grove?” Jason asked.

“That I don’t know. Everyone in this town knows or speculates about your business. My husband and I are kinda boring and we still hear things about us. So when infidelity is involved, it’s big news. This might sound strange, Agent Gideon, but I don’t think Julie was having a sexual affair. I think she was having an emotional one.”

“And you have no idea who this person might have been?”

“She wouldn’t tell me his name though I asked more than once. She kept calling him B; that’s all I know. I didn’t want to press too much. Maybe I should've.”

“What about work, Bethany? Was she having any problems there that you know of?”

“Julie loved her job because she got to be that friendly face you saw when you first came through the door. She made head teller the fastest anyone has in our bank’s history. I did notice that she’d been having some talks with Mr. Baleman lately. She was going through something and even though her smile was one of the brightest I've ever seen something was clearly wrong.”

“What were she and Mr. Baleman talking about?”

“I don't know. I know she had requested some time off and said she was thinking about going back to Phoenix for something. Maybe it was family related; as I said she didn’t talk much about that. Mr. Baleman always keeps his door open for us though.

“He's a great boss and we all know there aren’t a lot of great bosses in this world.” Bethany looked at her watch. “My break is so past over. If you have anymore questions, you can stop by my house at anytime. I just want you to find this person so that Julie can rest in peace.”

“We’re doing everything we can to do just that.” Jason replied.

Nodding, Bethany got up from the table and headed back out the door. He’d talked to Stephen Baleman once already about Amanda Gilroy but that conversation had been informal at best. It was time to talk to him and see if any insight could be gained on what Julie Riley’s problem was. It seemed improbable that he would know who her new friend was but Jason didn’t think there was any harm in asking. The people others chose to confide in could sometimes be very surprising. He’d been in this business long enough to know there were more surprises to come.

***

“Hey Dad.”

“Hey,” James started closing all the open files on the kitchen table when his son walked in. Then he looked at the clock on the microwave. It was just after 1am. “What are you doing up?”

“I got wrapped up in a heavy game of Street Fighter. I was just about to go to sleep; then I thought I’d check and see if you were up.”

Derek sat across from his dad at the table. He could see the bags under his eyes and the worry lines on his forehead. He’d never really seen him like that before. James Morgan was good at his job; Derek knew he wanted to be a cop when he grew up just like him. He might want to live in a more adventurous town but he was so proud knowing his old man kept Cambridge safe for everyone. Except it wasn’t quite safe right now and his dad seemed to be working into the wee hours of the night but nothing was solved.

“Dad, is there a serial killer in Cambridge?” he asked.

“We don’t need to talk about something like that, Derek. It’s not a pleasant conversation.”

“But it’s my town too, and I'm not a little kid anymore. I won't ask for details…I don’t wanna know. I just wanna know are you gonna find the creep.”

“I pray that we do.” James replied. “It’s a difficult case. Being able to emotionally detach is essential to what I do. You have to be objective and focused at all times. It’s hard to look at your friends and neighbors knowing one could be a murderer. It’s hard to go to a crime scene and know the victim personally. It’s hard to sleep at night knowing a maniac is one step ahead of you.”

“Isn’t the FBI helping?” Derek asked. “Everyone’s been talking about them since they came to town.”

“They're helping a lot.” James nodded. “They're questioning people, going over forensics, working that profiler angle. I'm glad for the extra hands. But we’re still not any closer to solving the case. I don’t want anymore people to get hurt, and that’s a possibility as long as this person is free.”

“Me neither. I don’t want you to be so tired anymore though.”

“I'm OK, son.”

“We haven’t thrown the football around in a while, and you don’t go out on Fridays with mom anymore. I'm not complaining, I promise, it’s just that you haven’t been around. I know why and I know your work is important…I just miss you.”

“I miss you too, Derek. Spending time with all of you is important to me. But it’s also important that I keep this town safe for you, your mom and sisters, and all your friends. Sometimes the job has to come first. It won't be that way forever; just for right now.”

“Well do you at least have suspects? Can you take people into the box and sweat them out like they do on _Homicide_?”

James smiled. He knew his son wanted to be a cop. He didn’t know if he approved; he actually hoped for Derek to find something better to do with his life. James loved his job but you always wanted the next generation to be one step above.

He and his wife Frances worked hard to provide for their kids and hoped for at least one doctor. Maybe they’d have a journalist or an engineer. But he would be perfectly OK with not a single cop. He knew Derek was going to do what he wanted to do but still, James had some time to convince him that medicine might be the way to go.

“When you sweat someone in the box Derek, you have to have proof or a damn good reason like probable cause. You can't just do it because of what your gut tells you. If only it were that easy. Of course some people’s guts are narrower than others. The rules are in place for a reason.”

“Does your gut know who the serial killer is?” Derek asked.

“If it does, it ain't telling me.” he smiled a little. “I know this is big news all over town. I know there's gossip and you and your friends talk about it all day long. But I don’t want this on your mind son. It’s a nasty business and something that shouldn’t invade a kid’s world. That’s why you have parents…it’s our burden to worry.”

“OK Dad.” Derek smiled too. “I still worry about you though. I love you.”

“I love you too.” he held out his hand. “Gimme some skin.”

Derek smiled, slapping his father’s hand. Then he got up from the chair and gave him a hug. He knew his dad wasn’t going to share the case with him but that’s what eavesdropping was for. He saw what it was doing to James over the last few months and hoped it was solved soon so things could go back to normal.

Derek always preferred adventure to boredom. What self-respecting teenager wouldn’t? But this was no adventure for his dad. James Morgan was carrying the weight of four souls inside him everyday, and 4000 after that. The faster this was solved and things got back to normal, and boring, the better.

“Get some sleep, kid. If your mom finds out how late you were up, she won't be pleased.”

“You're gonna get some sleep too, right Dad?”

“I’ll be up in a little while, I promise. Goodnight, Derek.”

“Goodnight.”

He watched his son leave the room and heard him go up the stairs. The one in the middle that always creaked didn’t fail him tonight. Sighing, James looked at the microwave clock once more and opened a few files. Something crucial was here; he knew it. He was sure that the killer was staring him in the face. James just needed to pull the needle from the haystack before another woman was killed. One thing his gut was telling him was that he didn’t have much time.

***

Ashley and Spencer left the police station, grabbing their bikes off the rack. Ashley wore a big grin and Spencer was happy to make her happy. It had been ten days since Amanda’s funeral. He wasn’t sure he would ever see her smile again.

Getting over losing someone she cared so much about wouldn’t be easy. Amanda had been sweet to him too and he had no idea how to feel about her not being there anymore. This was the first time though that Spencer ever had to hold Ashley up. She was always doing it for him. He owed her a few and was so glad to do something awesome for her.

“That was more than awesome, Spencer.” Ashley said, reading his thoughts. “That was more like super, mc-duper, awesome!”

“I told you Uncle Jason was brilliant.” He replied.

“He's not just any brilliant…he's a profiler. He hunts serial killers and creepy weirdoes. He's gonna find the guy who killed Amanda and give him the chair.”

“I really hope so.”

They started walking down the street. It was a gorgeous summer day, the second in a row without rain. They had enjoyed riding their bikes through the trailer park before heading into town to spend a little while with Jason. He was busy, he was always busy, but he made some time to catch up with Spencer and meet his best friend. He even found time to teach Spencer two new magic tricks. Not that it ever took much time to teach Spencer anything.

“I wanna be just like him when I grow up.” She said.

“You do?”

“Sure. I wanna be a profiler. My Gran always told me that women have a different instinct than men. That means we know how to figure stuff out without having to read it in a book or interrogate someone for it. I'm a born profiler. I think I should use those powers for good.”

“I don’t think that women and men’s instincts are any different. Not biologically anyway. I mean sure there are probably some hormonal things that make…”

“It doesn’t really matter.” Ashley cut him off. “Don’t you think I’d make an awesome profiler?”

“Well you always know who did it on the TV shows.”

“Exactly. And I've been reading a lot of true crime novels too. I want to get the bad guys, Spencer. I wanna be like your Uncle Jason. What do you wanna be when you grow up?”

“I don't know.” He shrugged. It was probably one of the few times in his life that he used that phrase. Spencer wanted to be like Uncle Jason too, he just wasn’t sure how much. He knew he didn’t want to be a boring lawyer like his dad. He could see himself being a professor like his mom though.

Diana Reid used to teach literature and the classics at Pacific University before she got too sick. She was one of their most beloved professors. She was passionate and brilliant. Spencer wanted to be passionate too. He never wanted to stop learning and growing. “Uncle Jason isn’t just a profiler; he teaches too. I could see myself doing that.”

“Lets go into the FBI together.” Ashley suggested.

“Really?” he looked at her.

“Yeah, why not? I can be an awesome profiler and you can teach everybody what they need to know. I bet you're already smarter than people studying there right now. OK, that’s what we’ll do…we’ll go into the FBI.” She smiled. “Its gonna be awesome. One day we’ll have a case like this and we’ll solve it too.”

“I know Uncle Jason will solve this.” Spencer said. “Sometimes it takes a while but he always gets the Unsub.”

“Unsub? What's that mean?”

“It means unknown subject. That’s what they call the serial killer before they know his name.”

“Unsub…I like that. Well this Unsub better watch out cuz his days are numbered. The best minds in the FBI are gonna find him. Then they’re gonna put him in the chair.”

Spencer nodded as they climbed onto their bikes. He needed to head home before his mom got too worried about him. A detour for some ice cream might not be too bad though. It had been a long, nice afternoon and that would be the perfect end for it.

***

“I’ll have you know, Agent Gideon, that I'm usually not such a cheap date.”

Emily smiled as she sipped her milkshake. She couldn’t believe she was there with him. Yesterday she was in the park with Ian goofing off when he approached her. Jason said he needed to talk to her about some important things. Emily was intrigued.

She’d promised Ian her afternoon though. They were enjoying each other’s company. He was one of the few people Emily could kick around a soccer ball with. It was finally sunny again; she needed the exercise. Plus every woman knew you didn't jump when a man said jump. He could wait.

She told him they could meet tomorrow at the diner if that was OK. Jason said that it was. So she came in on a relatively quiet Sunday evening and he bought her a chocolate milkshake. She had no idea what this was about but she was glad to spend a little time with him.

“I'm sure your boyfriend could testify to that.” Jason replied.

“Who, Ian? He's not my boyfriend. We’re just…I don't know but he's not my boyfriend. How long have you been married?”

“I'm sorry?”

“You're wearing a wedding ring.” She tried to hide her disappointment.

How she hadn't noticed it before, Emily didn’t know how she missed it. It didn’t stop her from wanting to flirt mercilessly with him but Aunt Erin always said there were names for women who slept with married men and a lady wasn’t it. There were plenty of fish in the sea; Emily didn’t need one off someone else’s line. Damn, she wanted Jason though. She wanted him something fierce.

“I'm a widower.” Jason replied.

“Oh. I'm sorry to hear that.” She really meant what she said. Despite the lust in her heart there wasn’t any malice.

“It was a long time ago. Emily, I asked you here because I want to talk to you a little about this case. Do you mind talking with me?”

“I guess.” She shrugged. “I don't know anything no matter how much I sit around and pontificate with my friends. No offense, but I'm just as in the dark as you are.”

“We’re not quite in the dark.” Jason said. “While there's plenty that’s unknown to us, lots of people are working hard on this case. Now I'm asking you.”

“Ask me anything.”

“Did you know any of the victims well?”

“I only really knew Amanda. Julie lived here five years but she wasn’t quite part of the community. Kelly had been here forever but she was twice my age. Amanda was older too but we all knew her. She really helped Jordan out over the past year.

“Someone needs to look out for her cuz her dad’s a total douchebag tool and her mom’s…” Emily sighed. “I guess passive would be a good word. She has twin brothers and they get all the love and attention. If not for Amanda and I, I don’t know what would've happened.”

“Was Amanda seeing anyone as far as you know?” Jason asked.

“Amanda was pretty pressed for time so I don’t think so. Seriously, I have no idea how she did it all. She must have babysat for every family in town when I was a kid.”

“Her parents said the same.”

“Her life was like a walking Lifetime movie from my age to about 21.” Emily said.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh c'mon, I'm talking about the babysitter fantasy. Pretty, perfect, shapely young thing looks after the kids and catches the eye of the father. It’s probably third to cheerleaders and women in prison on porn sites. Isn’t everything about sex?”

“Actually…no.”

“I don’t believe that.” Emily replied. “I know that about 85% of murders are committed by someone you know and 50% of that 85% is by someone you know intimately. By intimately they mean someone you’ve had sex with, want to have sex with, used to have sex with, or someone who wanted to have sex with you. Therefore, it’s about sex.”

“Aren’t you a clever, clever Katya?” Jason smiled some. It took all he had not to playfully cluck her under the chin. He wasn’t sure if that would insult Emily or cause her to ratchet up this flirty game she was playing.

“Who?”

“Nevermind. Tell me more about the babysitter fantasy, even if I regret asking later.”

“Well, lots of parents in this town had her on speed dial. There had to be a ton of late nights with dads driving her home. Maybe she climbed into the backseat a few times.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t judge her…older men can be sexy and intriguing.”

Jason knew that Amanda had been a virgin when she died. Of course that only meant that she hadn't gone all the way. There were a million other ways to go. Maybe she said no to the wrong man. Maybe she was involved with someone emotionally and they wanted more. Maybe she had no clue she was the source of someone’s out of control fantasy.

“If you tell me the profile I could give you some people of interest.”

“You're not qualified to work with the profile, Emily.” Jason said.

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“I often find that young people, particularly in smaller towns, have less to hide than their parents.”

“We all have our secrets, Jason.” She sipped her milkshake.

“That’s Agent Gideon.” He replied, a little playfulness coming out in his tone. He knew Emily liked to straddle the fine line. While he didn’t want to encourage her, he also didn’t feel the need to be cross. He could see from just how much she cared about Jordan that Emily Prentiss was a good kid.

“Do you like to be called Agent Gideon all the time?”

“Emily…”

She smiled, her eyes a little downcast. She was doing it; she was flirting with him. And he knew it too. His tone and his eyes revealed everything. He didn’t seem to be pushing her off, just holding her back. Ian did the same thing sometimes but she always got him where she wanted him. All men were the same, weren't they?

“All I can tell you is that Amanda caught the eye of plenty of men in this town. She was gorgeous and she was sweet too. She spent a lot of time in people’s houses looking after their kids. She turned men away because she was so focused on her career. But she was never cruel.”

“Do you know if she had feelings for anyone?” Jason asked.

“Well I heard, and you have to remember that so much in this town is rumor, that she was crazy about Ryan Scott some time ago. When he came home from Duke he married Keri Derzmond. They’re still here but I also heard they’ll leave town soon.”

“Can you remember any regulars Amanda babysat over the years? Saying everyone makes for a very long list and we need to get focused.”

“She babysat Sam Kassmeyer and his little brother Sean forever. She was always looking after the Baleman kids, the Lopez kids, and definitely the Norris kids. I don't know anymore than that if you're talking all the time. Can I ask you a question, Agent Gideon?”

Jason wasn’t sure if he wanted to go there. He opened the door though so whatever happened was his responsibility and fault. _Keep the upper hand Jason_ ; he told himself, _this could easily slip away from you_.

“Go right ahead.” He said.

“What's the story with David Rossi and my Aunt Erin?”

“There is no story.”

“So they weren't lovers? Oh c'mon, they have lovers written all over them. That scene outside of my house was like something out of a Nora Roberts novel. The philandering FBI agent returning to the small town and reuniting with the lover he left long ago. They’re probably somewhere right now with scratchy sheets and a neon sign. She’s been around less than usual lately.”

“Emily…”

“You keep saying that.” she smiled. “Don’t worry…I like the way it sounds.”

“Stop it.” Jason smiled, despite himself. “I don’t know any story about Dave and your Aunt. I know they were friends many years ago when she lived in DC. They’ve been friends since you were a little girl. That’s all I know. Perhaps if you have more questions you can ask your Aunt.”

“I find that you don’t always get the truth from the source.”

“You're very right about that. Give it a try though; it might work this time. I appreciate you talking to me tonight.”

“I like you. I don’t mind at all.”

She smiled as she finished her milkshake. He smiled at her too. It was clear that she liked him; at least he thought it was clear. But Jason also needed to make it clear that he was a grownup and she wasn’t. There were many things he was expert in but teenage girl was not one of them. That was a good thing most days. Tonight, he wasn’t really thinking so.

***

“Oh God, ohhh, damn baby, damn.”

Erin smiled as he kissed her passionately. She gripped Dave’s hips as he thrust deeper. Her eyes rolled back in her head. That’s when you knew it was damn good.

“Ohhh David…mmm, don’t stop.”

He had no intention of stopping. They were right in the zone and it was awesome. This was Round 2, this time they were spooning. It had never been one of Dave’s favorite positions but he loved it with Erin. He loved every position with her.

Nearly a decade since they explored each other’s bodies, it felt as if no time had gone by. Actually, it felt even better than it used to. Maybe they both learned a thing or two in their time apart. Erin was so soft, fragrant, wet, and ready. The way she whimpered and moaned his name drove him crazy. She had the same secret spots…those didn’t change on a woman.

Dave remembered it all from the first moment they were naked again. It was like riding a bike. Her nipples were still quite sensitive and she loved to have her ass slapped. They didn’t encounter the nervous stutter steps that sometimes come from a long time apart. From the first time in that Portland HoJo to every time since it was pure ecstasy.

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, oh Erin, oh Erin, oh baby.”

Dave stroked her clit to the rhythm of his thrusts. It was hard to control the way she writhed and moaned when she came. Erin was spent…it was her fourth climax of the evening. She practically screamed his name this time, pulling his hand from between her thighs and locking their fingers.

“I'm almost there baby.” He whispered in her ear. “Mmm, you feel so good I want this to go on forever. Don’t you make me stop loving you. I just don’t know if I can.”

Dave stiffened, his whole body quivering as his climax came from the tips of his toes. He felt as if it might be his last breath and surely didn’t give a damn. If he had to die then this bliss was the way to do it. And this was surely bliss.

Wrapping both arms around her, Dave pulled Erin as close as he could. He was still deep inside of her, feeling her shiver. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. His was almost as erratic.

“You don’t know if you can?” she asked.

Erin barely whispered it and didn’t know if Dave heard her. She knew he was still alive, she could hear him breathe and feel his heart. He didn’t respond and Erin wasn’t going to repeat herself. Men said lots of things in the haze of orgasm...you couldn’t trust it to be the same in the morning.

You enjoyed the moment and what came after came after. Dave slowly pulled away, lying on his back and watching the ceiling fan spin. Erin pulled the sheet over her perspiring skin. Turning around, she just looked at him.

“I meant it.” he said.

“What's that?” she covered his heartbeat with her hand. Damn, she missed that feeling. Erin leaned to kiss it. She remembered doing that once with Evan and something about it felt so wrong. It wasn’t wrong with Dave.

“I loved you then, Erin. I wanted to ask you to stay but it was unfair to ask you to choose between me and your niece. Honestly, the selfish part didn’t want to hear you pick her over me.”

“When I made the decision I didn’t know it would be a lifetime commitment. It turned out to be that way though…and I wouldn’t give up the experience. I do wish I hadn't given up other things though.”

Dave turned on his side, enveloping her in his arms. He kissed her nose and then her lips.

“We’ll probably be gone within a week.” He said.

“Are you any closer to solving this, David?”

“We’ve got some plausible questions, some decent answers, and a lead or two. This might sound gruesome but there could be another body soon. That body could lead us right to him if our powwow tomorrow doesn’t.”

“Someone else might have to die?” Erin asked. “How does that make sense?”

“I hope that doesn’t happen. Whoever this guy is, he's good at what he does. He's been fantasizing about it a long time. But he will slip up as he gains more confidence. It’s Murphy’s Law. And we’ll be there when he does. My job isn’t always easy.”

“Don’t you have a port in the storm, you know back in DC?”

“Relationships and I don’t always get along.” He replied, moving them on the mattress so that he was on top of her again.

“You did halfway decent with ours.” Erin sighed, running her fingers through his hair.

“You were different baby. You were very special; you are special.”

“I don’t feel all that special.”

“How do you feel, Erin?” Dave got rid of the cumbersome sheet. He wanted her body.

“I feel like I'm in trouble.”

***

Hotch always had fun at the fireworks. Despite it being one of the early highlights of summer vacation, it was nearly at the top of his list of favorites. There was always food, friends, fun, music, and memories. Sam had a camera; the same one he had since he was ten. Most of his pictures showed how his group of friends changed over the past five years.

July 4th was always full of laughter and happiness. Hotch couldn’t say that for everyday of his life. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say it about this July 4th either. This July 4th sucked. It was bad enough he couldn’t stop thinking about Emily off somewhere letting Ian Doyle touch places he shouldn’t.

That was enough to make his head explode. Adding to that horror, he was the classic fifth wheel tonight. Sam and Jessie seemed to have figured out some time in the last week that if he struggled to speak to her there were other fun things to do with their lips. Hotch didn’t think he saw two people kiss so much in his life. Morgan brought Penelope Garcia with him.

That was like being stuck in a Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn movie. Banter flew back and forth all day like bullets. It was laden with sexual innuendo that made Hotch’s head spin. He’d probably turn the color of a tomato before talking to anyone like Garcia talked to Morgan. Their friend Paul was there with his girlfriend Meg. Desi Morgan was there, which didn’t please her older brother.

Adam Jackson, Bobbi Baird, Lisa Woodbridge, and some other folks were all hanging out tonight. They’d been having fun all day and as darkness fell on Cambridge they couldn’t wait for the fireworks. Hotch just wasn’t feeling it. All he felt was alone. He listened to the halfway decent 70s cover band but soon grew tired and got up from the blanket.

“Hey Aaron, where ya going?” Sam asked.

Hotch looked at his best friend, goofy grin permanently plastered on his face. It was even bigger now that he finally got his arm around Jessie.

“I’ll be back. I just need to take a little walk.”

“Oh, OK.”

 _Gee he could’ve cared just a little more_ , Hotch thought. There was no point in being bitter. It was better to be happy for Sam…he’d been digging on Jessie forever. It was just really difficult to feel happy for his friend while feeling sorry for himself. Wandering through the throngs of people, Hotch looked at everyone.

They were sharing blankets, food, and enjoying themselves. Some he even spoke to. Most likely one of these people was a serial killer. They could be hunting right now. That was just too surreal. It might have been the first truly surreal experience of Aaron Hotchner’s life.

“Hi Aaron.”

He stopped when he heard his name. Turning in a few different directions, he managed a smile when Megan Kane smiled and waved.

“Oh hey.” He said.

“Are you out here alone?”

“Nah, I just needed a break from um…”

“Yeah,” Megan nodded. “Me too.”

“Really?” he walked over to her purple and white gingham blanket.

“Oh yeah. Cherish and Adam have been making out all day. I managed to keep my lunch down but I wasn’t so sure about my dinner. I couldn’t take it anymore. So I actually managed to find a little spot for me to be alone. Well, me and 3000 other people. You wanna share?”

“Well um…I don’t want my friends to worry about me. You know how it is?”

“I do.”

Hotch looked around, his eyes quickly finding his friends. They didn’t seem to be missing him too much right now. They were all wrapped up in the fireworks and the chemicals of the evening. A part of him would rather eat cauliflower every night for a week than to go back over there.

“Are you sure I won't be in the way?” he asked.

“It’s a pretty big blanket; I have the room.”

Smiling and letting his dimples out of their hiding place, Hotch sat down beside her. He had no earthly idea what they were going to talk about. It had never been easy for him to chit chat with girls. That was what Morgan was good at. His mind started thinking about things girls might like to talk about; music, movies, TV, books. He wondered if he and Megan had any of that stuff in common. The only way he would find out was to ask.

“So, what movies are you interested in seeing this summer?”

***

“I thought we came out here to watch the…” Emily’s back arched as Ian’s hand moved between her thighs. “Mmm, no fair; we’re here to see the fireworks.”

“I see fireworks right now.” Ian replied, nipping at her neck as his finger slipped deeper inside of her. “Tell me that you don’t.”

Emily didn’t want to admit how much she liked what he was doing. It didn’t matter anyway because in a little while her body would betray her in ways she refused to let her mouth.

“Oh Ian,” she reached down and grabbed his wrist. “Oh my God.”

When he pulled away abruptly, she looked at him with wide brown eyes.

“What the fuck? What are you doing?”

“Well I don’t want to distract you from the real reason you came out here.” Ian replied. “I think that I was just being selfish.”

“You're such a bullshitter.” Emily laughed, putting her hand over his face. Ian took her hand and kissed the center of her palm. It made her shiver.

They’d gone out to the banks of the Willamette River. The morbid part of Emily knew they weren't far from where Julie Riley’s body was found. They came down there early in the evening as the whole town partied in Settlement Park. Ian spread a blanket and pulled out a little radio. His favorite hard rock station was having one of those holiday countdowns. He and Emily split a joint while listening to AC/DC, Bon Jovi, The Who, and other bands. Then they ate ham sandwiches and potato salad and drank Red Sangria MD 20/20.

It was Emily who suggested skinny dipping. She’d brought towels and wore her bikini under her khaki shorts and Sugarcubes tee shirt. All of that was soon on the blanket beside Ian’s jeans and tank top. They splashed, played, and kissed in the chilly water. When they returned to their blanket there was more making out, another half-joint Ian had stashed in a Newport box, more rock music, and more booze. While Emily rarely believed in such things, she thought this moment was almost perfect.

“I just like making you laugh.” he said.

“Mission accomplished.”

She was laughing again and Ian kissed her. He held her close, moaning as their bodies moved together. There was no one around for miles and he wanted to take her right there. Ian never thought they'd get any more privacy than this. He grinded against her as Emily ran her fingers through his hair. She moved her thighs further apart, the sigh from her lips inescapable.

“Ian?”

“Mmm hmm?” his lips started moving across her neck and throat. The Willamette River wasn’t tasty but Ian wasn’t going to let that stop him.

“I think we should do it.” she said.

“Do what?” he asked, pulling her towel apart.

She’d never been completely naked for him before. It was always topless; she never took her bottoms off. It didn’t matter at the time cuz Ian could always make it work. Right now he was going to have to get some control of himself.

Emily could put a stop to this at any time. Respecting her rights, no matter how much it might kill him, was a must. She wasn’t like the other girls he knew…she wasn’t easy. Ian wasn’t sure how much he should enjoy because it could all be over in a heartbeat.

“I think we should fuck.”

Ian’s mind stopped like a needle scratching a record. Did she just say what he thought she said? Emily could be a prick tease like nobody’s business but he knew that was just part of the game. Still, she’d never said anything like that before. She wouldn’t if she wasn’t serious.

“Don’t say it like that.” he ran his hands over her body.

Damn, she was so beautiful. Should he even be thinking what he was thinking about a girl so young? She was 15 but still. Ian Doyle was probably going to burn in hell anyway, that’s what his mother always told him. He may as well commit all the fun sins before he got there.

“How the hell do you want me to say it?” Emily asked.

“I don't know; say it nicer than that.”

She took his face in her hands, kissing his nose and then his mouth. When Emily poked her tongue out, Ian did the same. She reached down to undo his towel, leaving him as naked as she was.

“Do you have condoms?”

“I never leave home without them.” he replied.

“Well let’s do it then.”

Ian nodded, moving off her to grab his jeans and one of the condoms he kept in his wallet. In a matter of moments she was back in his arms. They didn't need a lot of foreplay…they’d been playing all day. But Ian stroked her anyway because he liked to. One of the best parts about Emily holding back for so long was that he got to know her body.

His lips loved to tease and nibble her. He loved her earlobes, her nipples, her belly button, and the light birthmark on her collarbone. He couldn’t get enough of her when she moaned and giggled. She would grip his hips and it just excited Ian more. He didn’t think he could be anymore ready but that wasn’t true.

“Hey Ian?”

“Yeah, baby?” he spread her thighs. It was time and he could sense Emily’s nervousness underneath the badass armor.

“Is this gonna hurt? I mean I know its not gonna be all glamorous like Endless Love but I'm not really sure what to expect.”

He hated to say that he wasn’t sure either. This was actually the first time he’d been with a virgin. His last girlfriend, Chloe, was a slut. He wasn’t her first anything. Well he was the first guy who didn’t fall into her web and end up in jail behind her shenanigans. He’d just kicked her to the curb before meeting up with Emily.

“I'm thinking it must suck.” He replied. “I’ll try my best to make it bearable.”

“You have anything to maybe take the edge off?” she asked.

“No, not really. Oh wait; I have some roofies in my car. You want a roofie?”

“Roofies, Ian?” Emily raised her eyebrow. “You want to knock me out and fuck me?”

“No, I don’t, but you asked for something to take the edge off. I have something.”

“Roofies though?” she punched his arm. “Wow, you're so romantic I hardly know how to contain myself. Let’s just do it.”

Emily laid back and tried to breathe. It seemed like it took forever for Ian to finish. She just stared up at the sky, watching the fireworks. It hurt; there was real pain, discomfort, and even blood, but Emily didn’t complain. She knew Ian tried to be gentle but he definitely got his rocks off too. That was cool; the time would come when Emily could of the same. She knew the pain was like the shame…she only had to feel it once.

***

“Mike Kassmeyer is clean as a whistle just like Ray Lopez.” Barton said, lighting his cigarette. “Thank God because I'm telling you I would've lost all faith in humanity if Mike was a goddamn serial killer. Believe me, I don’t have much faith in humanity left.”

“What about Rod Norris?” Jason asked.

“He works for the Sheriff’s Department.” James replied. “That makes him very difficult to investigate. Not to mention the fact that he's an asshole so that makes him difficult to have a conversation with.”

“Amen.” Barton nodded.

“That seems to be the general consensus on Norris.” Jason said.

“There are a few domestics on his sheet,” James said. “According to his boss it was nothing physical. I don’t know if I believe the police need to be called for simple verbal disagreements but I have no proof to back up my gut.

“His record as an officer is spotless except for an incident ten years ago where he knocked a guy’s tooth out. The Department said he was attempting to subdue a drug addict. He cheats on his wife all the time but nothing ties him to any of the victims except for Amanda Gilroy being his babysitter four or five years ago.”

“Norris didn’t connect to Marci Mitchell?” Rossi asked. He was sitting on the glider drinking a beer. It was a fantastic summer night. Four men were sitting on a back porch talking. In the regular world this could be the set of a TV show. In their world they were hunting a serial killer.

“No.” James shook his head. “I checked for johns arrested with her in the past and there was nothing. I checked to see if she used to do business in the county and walked away empty handed from that as well. Rod seems to prefer a strip club in Forest Grove called Skins. Let’s just say they offer more than lap dances. Dammit, why are we nowhere?”

“This Unsub is wearing a tight mask.” Rossi replied. “He seems so perfectly normal; boring as a matter of fact. The only people who know what a monster he truly is don’t live to tell.”

“I just have this feeling he's about to strike again.” Barton said. “I can just feel something in the air. Another woman will die in this town and I feel helpless to stop it.”

“There's still one person on our short list that we haven’t talked to.” Jason said. “What do you think of Stephen Baleman? He's connected to both Amanda and Julie. He also travels to Portland every other month for regional meetings for the bank he manages. At least that’s what people think he's going to Portland for.”

“He doesn’t have a record of solicitation anywhere.” Barton said. “I don’t know a lot about Stephen. His wife Annie has lived in Cambridge since right before high school. I don’t even remember when Stephen moved here.

“I think it was a transfer from the bank when they opened a branch here. He works, goes to church, and I see him in the supermarket or the hardware store. I don’t know what his favorite sports teams are or which actresses he thinks are sexy. I guess I always felt as if he didn’t want to mingle with us common folk.”

“So he has a superiority complex?” Rossi asked.

“Yeah, probably. I've never really liked him but a stick up his ass doesn’t make him a serial killer.”

“What do you think of him, James?” Jason asked.

“He does seem to look upon common folk with disdain.” James agreed. “It’s like he's looking for something extraordinary and won't ever find it here. He's pleasant enough but I can't think of one thing that would make him stand out from any other corporate stiff dad in this town.

“Still, I don’t know if I’d let either one of my girls get in his car. Maybe it’s just my cop instinct but has anyone ever been perfectly nice but still rubbed you the wrong way. It’s not what he says or does but more like what he doesn’t. As my partner said though, that doesn’t make him a serial killer.”

“I’ll still feel better after we talk to him.” Dave replied. “A possible three out of four equals red flags to me.”

“He's out of town with his family for the holiday.” Barton said. “Their neighbor said they won't return until Sunday the 9th. If he is our guy, which I could hardly imagine, at least that means the women in this town are safe for the next four days.”

“In that time we need to find out all we can about Stephen Baleman.” Jason said. “We need to shore up the case the best we can and start making sense of the senseless.”

“If we ask too many questions about Baleman then people in town will start to talk.” James said. “He’ll get wind when he gets back to town and shut down. We don’t have any physical evidence; our whole case would be circumstantial. If his mask is on as tightly as the profile says I'm thinking a confession is improbable. This needs to be done quietly.”

“We’ll call JJ.” Rossi said. “Everywhere a person goes they leave a print; Baleman will be no different. We’ll have access to his credit cards, phone records, cell phone information, club memberships…just about anything. It could take a day or two to gather everything and we’ll be waiting for him with it when he gets back to town.”

“What if we’re wrong?” James asked.

His question was met with quiet contemplation. Wrong wasn’t the word Jason would use. You worked the case and your work produced persons of interests. Those people were questioned, either crossing them off or requiring further investigation.

Stephen Baleman was the first person to set off major red flags since they arrived in town over two weeks ago. That didn’t mean he was the one. They still needed to put him through what all the other men went through. Jason wouldn’t feel bad about that and he was sure the women of Cambridge wouldn’t either.

“By the time JJ finishes running him we’ll know if we’re way off or getting closer.” Rossi replied. “That’s the best we can do in a situation like this. We just keep putting two and two together until we can finally get four. The victims, the families, and the town deserve closure. It was always going to come to this?”

“Come to what?” James asked.

“One of your neighbors is a monster. When the mask is torn off its going to take real time to make sense of why this all happened in the first place.”

***

“I have a plan. I think I’ll get what I want if I just stick to the plan.”

“What was sex like, Emily?” Jordan asked.

They were sitting on Emily’s front porch on Wednesday evening. Erin was inside curled up with a good book while the girls chattered away and painted their nails. Emily was doing Jordan’s fingers in a glittery powder pink.

“It was OK I guess. Alright, the real truth is it sucked. It hurt and was uncomfortable and weird. I don't know; I know that’s only the first time though. It should be amazing with Jason now that I got the hard stuff out of the way.”

“Do you love him?” Jordan asked.

“Who?”

“Jason; do you love Jason?”

“Oh, um…not really. Well, I mean I like him. He’s so attractive, brilliant, and intriguing. I think I can talk to him all day. I love the sound of his voice. He travels all over the country and captures serial killers. He's gorgeous to me.”

“But he's like my dad’s age.” Jordan scrunched up her nose. “Eww, my dad.”

“Older men are awesome, Jordan. I just want Jason…there's nothing wrong with a woman going after what she wants.”

“But shouldn’t you love someone before you make love?”

“Love is a bit of a relative term.” Emily replied. “I like Ian a lot; I don’t think I love him. I don’t love anyone; at least like you're talking about. Having sex with him could be nice though. Everyone doesn’t have to follow the same rules.”

“Well I love Owen.” She declared.

“I know you do. You…oh my God, Jordan, you two didn’t do it did you?”

“Do what?”

“You and Owen didn’t have sex, did you?”

“No!” Jordan exclaimed. She was aghast.

“OK, OK, you don’t have to sound so mortified.” Emily smiled.

“He kisses me.” Jordan smiled too just thinking about Owen. “Sometimes he touches me too and it feels really nice. Oh my God Em, I touched him once down there and it was soooo gross.”

“It usually is the first couple of times. I'm really excited to be with Jason though. Like I said, Ian is great but Jason is a man. I’ll tell you all about it afterward.”

“OK.” Jordan nodded, handing Emily her other hand to be painted as well.

Neither girl knew they were being watched. They were too busy enjoying a summer evening with nail polish and gossip. He could see her perfectly from where he sat. He could actually see her newly polished toes wiggling in the wicker chair. The two plaits she wore made her look younger than usual and that turned him on.

She had to know how beautiful she was. Did she stand in front of the mirror at night looking at her rapidly changing body? Did she know how to pleasure herself or pleasure a man? She hung out with that criminal Ian Doyle…he didn’t look like the type who liked choir girls.

Just thinking about him touching Emily’s body, fucking her…he gripped the steering wheel to keep from losing it completely. She belonged to him and he wasn’t waiting anymore. Time was running out; the time was now. She was ready and he knew that he was.

***

“When are you leaving?” Erin asked.

She couldn’t bring herself to look in his eyes and that upset her. She knew this was coming; Dave wasn’t staying in Cambridge forever. Still, there was an ache in the pit of her stomach that made her want to scream in agony. Erin pushed it down with some red wine. They were having dinner at Giuseppe’s in Forest Grove.

“I’ll probably be here until about the 11th. We’re wrapping up some last minute things but I believe these police officers are quite capable.”

“Four women are dead and the killer is still out there. I don’t know if I’d call that capable, David.”

“The investigation is ongoing. This kind of thing is never easy and we’re just one part of it. The lack of forensics, the limits of small town victimology and profiling; a lot of factors factor in.”

“You have a suspect don’t you?” Erin asked.

“I hope you don’t think that I brought you here tonight to talk about this case.” He said, reaching across the table for her hand. “Hell, I hardly want to talk at all with you in that outfit. You look amazing tonight.”

Erin smiled, stroking her finger across his knuckles. She absolutely did not want to lose him again. Dammit, dammit to hell. What was she thinking when she let her emotions get the better of her? And to say they were just going to go with the flow. She was going to end up heartbroken and had no one to blame but herself.

“It’s a simple yes or no question, David.” She said.

“Yes.” He nodded. “Now can we get back to how beautiful you are?”

“Mmm, OK.” Erin managed to smile.

“Pink is definitely your color, Erin.”

She leaned in closer, a mischievous look on her face. Dave leaned in closer too. He wanted to kiss her but wouldn’t…public displays of affection had never been her thing.

“I'm wearing pink underneath too.” she whispered.

“Check please.” Dave replied.

Erin laughed. She threw back her head and laughed. For just a little while she would forget about his leaving and her being alone again. She promised herself she would enjoy this moment in time. She was still in the moment. The future couldn’t have her…now was right now.

000

Her ‘now is right now’ theory lasted until the hotel room. She sat in the bathroom crying and feeling like a complete idiot. Who the hell cries after amazing sex? OK, she had a couple of times but not this kind of crying. She needed to get it together. Dave was out there, probably wondering if she was in there doing lines of coke or something.

Yet every time she got up and went over to the sink to clean up, more tears came. Erin couldn’t explain why this was happening. She wasn’t a crier. In fact she was rather notorious for being a non-crier. There was no crying in politics, there was no crying in publishing, and there was damn sure no crying in the Prentiss family. Erin’s world was all about survival of the fittest…she made it to 45 for a reason.

“Erin?” Dave tapped lightly on the door. “Are you alright in there?”

“I'm fine. I’ll be right out. I'm fine.” The fact that she repeated she was fine surely showed that she wasn’t.

But she managed to get up off the side of the tub, wash her face, and make herself nearly presentable. The red eyes were a dead giveaway. Coming out of the bathroom, she quickly started to gather her clothes.

“I need to get going. Its getting late and I need to go home and check on Emily.”

“We can drive out together.” Dave suggested.

“No, I'm fine. I just think…”

“Hey, hey, hey, you're moving around like Paula Prentiss after her weekend in the country.” Dave put his hands on her shoulders to stop her from moving. “What's going on?”

“It’s not after her weekend in the country.” Erin replied. “Its after Joanna stabs her with the knife.”

“I stand corrected.”

“I hate that I let myself do this.” Erin said. She was clutching her dress so tightly she was sure her knuckles were white.

“What did you let yourself do?”

“David…”

“Say it.” he was nearly pleading with her though it was more with his eyes than with his tone.

“I can't. I just have to go.”

Erin moved away from him and slipped into her dress. She was trying to zip it, was unsuccessful and started to get pissed. Dave gently moved her hands away, doing it for her. She turned, slipped into her pumps, grabbed her purse and just walked out. She didn’t even say goodbye. She couldn’t say goodbye.

Erin wasn’t going to let her life become a Lifetime movie. She refused to cry most of the way home though The Carpenters were playing in her CD player. Hearing _Hurting Each Other_ was particularly painful. When she walked through the door that evening she was shocked to find Emily just going up the stairs. Her niece turned and concerned immediately registered on her face.

“What's the matter?” she asked.

“Nothing.” Erin lied, trying to smile. “Everything is fine.”

“No, its not.” Emily shook her head.

“Really, it is.”

“Aunt Erin, c'mon.” she came down the steps. “Have you been crying?”

“I'm OK, Emily.” She hugged her niece. “I went to dinner with Dave tonight. He’s leaving soon and I admit that it made me emotional. But I'm going to be OK.”

“The FBI is leaving town? But they didn’t solve the crime.”

“They can't always stay until the crime is solved. They offer their expertise, give the local police a leg up, and move on. It’s how they do their jobs. Someone else out there needs their help.”

“When are they going?” Emily asked. If Dave was leaving then so was Jason. She hadn't even had a chance to work on her plan yet. She thought she had more time.

“Dave said sometime after the 11th.”

Today was the 8th. Emily had to work fast if she was going to do what she wanted on her summer vacation. This wouldn’t be the first time she had to work under pressure. It wasn’t always ideal but it was doable. At least she hoped it was. Right now Emily would take a little while to comfort her Aunt. She knew Erin would do it for her if she was upset.

“We’ll have coffee.” Emily put her arm around her and started walking Erin toward the kitchen. “We’ll pull out that emergency pack of cigarettes, have a cup of coffee, and listen to the radio. I know you probably don’t want to talk to me about it but I don’t want you upstairs alone all sad either. Let’s call this a compromise.”

“Sometimes you're good to me.” she gave Emily a squeeze.

“It’s to make up for all the times I drive you crazy. Also, I love you so there’s that.”

“I love you too, Em.”

Erin would definitely be upstairs alone and sad later. Putting that off, even by a few minutes, was appealing to her. She and Emily hadn't spent much time together lately so this would be nice. It was a bit depressing but still nice.

***

“We’re going to the movies on Saturday.” Hotch said.

“Seriously?” Derek looked up from his menu. He didn’t know why he was studying it so hard. He already knew what he wanted.

“Yeah. I want to say I'm taking her but I don’t know if I can. She asked me.”

“Do you want some company?” Sam asked. “Jessie and I can tag along so you won't feel so nervous.”

“Check him out.” Derek pointed at Sam with his thumb. “He just learned to talk to her a couple of days ago. Now he's all Mr. Expert.”

“Shut up, Morgan.” Sam thumped his friend’s arm. “I'm just trying to be helpful.”

“No offense Sam,” Hotch said. “But you and Jessie are a little kissy right now. That would make me nervous. Megan just wants something low key.”

“No guy in his right mind wouldn’t want to get kissy, as you call it, with Megan Kane.” Morgan replied. “The girl is a stone cold fox. I gotta say Hotch, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I don’t really. She asked me out.”

“Yeah, but girls don’t ask you out if they're not interested.” Sam said. “Do they?”

“I doubt it.” Morgan shook his head. “Go Hotch!”

“I'm really nervous. This will be my first real date and I don’t want to do anything dumb. What if it’s a disaster?”

“It'll be fine.” Morgan said. “She asked you cuz she likes you man. The hard part is already out of the way.”

Hotch nodded even though his stomach still churned. He could hardly get the yes out fast enough when Megan asked him during the fireworks. They had a great time that evening, just two kids on a blanket with a parade in the sky over their heads. Emily was doing her own thing and maybe it was time for him to do the same.

He would always adore her and want to be friends. If she had deep feelings for Ian then she would never be into a guy like Hotch. It wasn’t the end of the world. Hotch truly hoped it wasn’t the end of the world.

“Hey guys.” Rachel Harding came over to the table with her usual smile. “What can I get you?”

Hotch tried to stop thinking about girls and put his focus on hanging out with his friends. So far the weather in July had June beat by a mile. Maybe it was finally going to be summertime in Cambridge. Now all they had to do was catch the killer amongst them and things would be perfect.

***

Emily ran out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the screen door like the devil was on her heels. It took a moment for Jason to get his wits and go after her. By the time he got to the porch she was on her bike and speeding off down the gravel drive toward the road. He ran down the steps calling her name.

“Emily! Emily, wait! Emily!”

She didn’t even turn back. She heard him shouting but she couldn’t turn back. She turned right as she came out onto the road, praying that a car would come and slam into her. What an ass she made of herself. What a monumental ass.

Her face still stung from where he slapped her. She’d never been slapped before in her life and it hurt like hell. But it didn’t hurt half as much as the crushing of her heart. That was the most painful thing ever. She felt small, like a dumb kid.

She was just a damn kid. Nothing made that more clear than what happened up in that room with Jason. She would just keep pedaling. She would pedal until she couldn’t anymore; until she couldn’t move or couldn’t breathe. Maybe she would pedal right out of Cambridge and never look back.

No, fuck that. Fuck him. Emily was not a dumb kid, she was a smart girl. Jason Gideon was an asshole. Maybe he wasn’t attracted to her but that didn’t mean anything. She would get over it…she would move on.

He was leaving town anyway. In a matter of moments he would be nothing but a distant memory. Why weren't those moments coming faster? She needed to forget.

She needed to forget the sickened and horrified look on his face. She needed to forget the force of his hand against her cheek. She needed to forget that so far nothing about sex or seduction turned out like any of those bullshit books and mediocre movies she’d watched over the years. Emily damn sure needed to forget that she wasn’t as sophisticated as she thought she was.

A few cars were passing her by on the road but Emily didn’t pay any attention to them. She was off to the right; wasn’t in their way. She just kept pedaling because she wasn’t far enough away yet. She could still hear his footsteps, the way he called her name.

What the hell did he want? It surely wasn’t to kiss and make up. He didn’t care about her so why did he chase her? Was it to prove to himself he wasn’t the heartless bastard that he truly was?

Someone was coming up behind her at a high rate of speed. Emily had no desire to turn around; she didn’t care who it was. It was broad daylight; they saw her riding along the side of the road. Then she heard the screeching tires and felt the impact of being hit. She had no idea what she was thinking as she and her bike fell off in the ditch.

There was pain; there was a little blood, some tears and surely some expletives. Somewhere in the distance she heard the car come to a stop. Well at least the bastard wasn’t a hit and run driver. Then she heard a car door opening as she was pushing her bike off her and trying to get up. What she saw next made her scream. At least she thought she screamed…Emily suddenly had no voice.

He was coming toward her, a plastic mask concealing most of his face. He threw the bike out of his way like it was no more than a toy car. She fought him off but he grabbed her hard. He was strong as he started pulling her out of the ditch and toward the opened side of his white van. Oh my God, this could not be happening.

Emily fought; she fought as hard as she could. She even came out of one of her shoes. Her blouse got torn, her nose got bloodied, but she didn’t give up. She didn’t even give up when her back hit the carpeted bottom of the inside of that van. Oh hell no, she was not going down without a fight. She was going to fight until there was nothing left in her.

He ripped her blouse off as if it was no more than a scrap of material, leaving her in just a white flowered bra. Then he was wrapping duct tape around her wrists. Why couldn’t she scream? He was heavy on top of her; she felt like she could hardly breathe. And then she couldn’t breathe because hands were around her neck. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t scream, and she was more scared than she’d ever been in her life.

***

Jason walked out of Mrs. Clemmons’ rooming house, walking down the steps and gravel driveway toward his SUV. He saw the two teens standing by it. They were sitting on bikes. He was a little past his limit with the young people of Cambridge. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself for whatever this might be about.

“Where the hell is Emily?” the raven haired one asked. He got off his bike, pushing it down in a show of aggression.

“Hotch…” the brown haired one sighed. “Don’t get angry.”

“I have no idea where Emily is.” Jason replied, knowing now he was talking to Aaron Hotchner and Sam Kassmeyer.

“Don’t you lie to me. I know all about you two and what you're doing.”

“We’re not doing anything.” He did his best to keep his voice neutral.

This case was kicking his ass; even with the new possible suspect not much was making sense. And Jason surely hadn't intended to get caught up in the pangs of first love and other disasters. There had been more twists and turns since he and Rossi arrived than an episode of The Twilight Zone. That’s what this whole town was…The Twilight Zone and Law and Order with a dose of All My Children just to give him migraines.

“Don’t lie to me.” Hotch repeated, clearly angry. “She has a thing for you. Jordan told us what she might be up to. You’re old enough to be her father you know.”

“Of course I know that. Emily is a wonderful girl but I'm a grown man and what you're implying disgusts me. We got into an argument this morning and I haven’t seen her since. Now if you'll excuse me…”

“Its dusk now.” Hotch reasoned. “If you haven’t seen her since this morning then where the hell is she?”

“I don't know, Aaron.” Jason was unable to hide his exasperation.

“Agent Gideon,” Sam stepped off his bike. “No one has seen Emily all day. She was supposed to meet up with Jordan at 5:30 but never showed. That’s not like her at all. What time did you argue?”

“It was just after eleven.” Jason cringed when he thought about her kissing him. He instantly regretted slapping her but it was instinctual. “She ran out, got on her bike, and took off down the road. I tried to go after her but…”

“That was nearly nine hours ago.” Sam looked at his watch. “No one has seen Emily in nine hours.”

“No one?” Jason asked.

“I haven’t.” Hotch shook his head. “I looked for her but I thought she was shacked up with you.”

“We checked the diner, the river, the roller rink, the woods, and the clubhouse.” Sam said. “She's nowhere to be found.”

“Maybe she just wanted to be alone.” The FBI agent suggested. Jason didn’t think he’d ever get the look of rejection on her face from his mind. How lonely did a fourteen year old girl have to be to offer herself on a platter to a grown man? His stomach turned thinking about someone taking her up on the offer.

“There aren’t many places for someone to be alone around here.” Sam replied. “We even went to her house but her Aunt said she wasn’t there. She hadn't seen Emily since this morning and said she was supposed to be with Jordan this evening.”

“We need to find her.” Hotch added.

“Boys, I'm really busy. I'm sure everything is fine. If her Aunt isn’t worried then I don’t think…”

“It’s your fault she ran off.” Hotch said, brimstone flashing in his hazel eyes. “You led her on, rejected her, and now she’s gone. You're going to help us find her.”

“You're going to watch your tone.” Gideon replied. “I am a grown man and you are a child, Aaron. You’d do well to remember that.”

For a while neither of the boys spoke. Jason could see the steam rising off Hotch. He didn’t want a confrontation with this young man but where else could it go if they kept beating around the bush.

“Leave your bikes.” He finally said. “We’ll take my car.”

Sam and Hotch rushed up the walkway with their Schwinns. They slid them under the porch and ran back down. Hotch jumped into the passenger seat and Sam got in the back. Jason was in the driver’s seat on the phone.

“No one has seen Emily Prentiss for eight hours.” He said. “No, I don’t want to alarm people, especially Erin. I'm going to take some time to look for her with Aaron and Sam.”

“What's going on?” Dave asked.

“I don't know but I'm sure we’ll find her. I’ll call you back in an hour or so.”

“Will do.”

Jason hung up the phone and buckled his seatbelt. He wanted to know where they planned to look first.

“Another look around town should be good.” Sam replied.

“She wasn’t there, Sam.” Hotch looked into the backseat. “We looked everywhere.”

“We’ll look again; there's no harm. After that we’ll check Route 47. Cops discourage kids riding out there alone but Emily isn’t one for following the rules.”

“Alright.” Jason looked both ways before pulling out onto the road. “We'll do a quick check of town and then Route 47.”

The boys nodded, training their eyes to look for their friend or her bike. Emily had to be out there somewhere…kids didn’t disappear into thin air. At least kids in Cambridge didn’t and no one wanted Emily Prentiss to be the first.

***

The smelling salt woke Emily with a start. Immediately she was fighting again but it was difficult to move. She was sore and her wrist was cuffed to something. She felt around with her free hand and thought it might be a pipe or something. Wherever she was, it was drafty as hell.

Emily was naked now and felt so vulnerable. She remembered her blouse being ripped in the initial struggle for her life and torn completely from her inside that van. Her Chucks were gone but she still wore socks. Why was this happening? Who would do this to her?

Her eyes were covered, her mouth gagged and she was handcuffed. She could probably rip off the gag and eye covering with her free hand but she knew she was being watched. He was watching her…she could hear him breathing. Maybe this was a bad dream.

Maybe the van hit her and instead of being snatched she was in a ditch having a nightmare. It was a horrible nightmare and she needed to wake up now. She needed to wake up safe and away from here. Crying out in frustration, Emily started pulling on the pipe, trying to loosen it.

“You're a hell of a fighter, Emily…that turns me on.” A male voice told her.

The voice was slightly familiar but hard to place. It almost seemed as if he was trying to sound different than normal. She didn’t give a damn who it was. Emily needed to get out of there before he killed her. She’d already been choked and raped…what could be worse than that? She didn’t even know how long she’d been captive.

It felt like she’d been with him for days. Aunt Erin must have been frantic. Maybe her parents had come off their swanky European vacation to look for her. Had her friends made missing posters? Were the police out with dogs? Was Jason Gideon wracked with guilt and worry as he looked all over town for her?

Hell was Emily even in Cambridge anymore. If you kept going up Route 47 you could drive to Portland or Washington State. The other direction took you to California and even Mexico. What if she was in some resort town, bound, gagged, and missing forever? She would be a little girl cautionary tale for years to come.

Ignoring the voice, Emily kept yanking on whatever she was handcuffed to. It was impossible to get free. Soon she would dislocate her shoulder just trying. Oh dear God, why was this happening?

The tears came next. Though she damned them, Emily couldn’t stop them. She was going to die here and never see her family and friends again. They might never even find her body. She jumped when she felt the man gently brush them away.

“Don't touch me!” she exclaimed through the gag. “Get away from me!”

Her throat was raw, probably from being choked. She could hardly breathe. She needed to calm down. A coughing fit might result in her choking to death. She needed to calm down and survive. Whatever happened she needed to survive.

“There's no reason to cry, pretty girl.” He said. “We’re here doing something so beautiful. I've waited so long for you and I promise to be as gentle as I can. I'm so anxious to have you again and I know you're anxious to be with me too.”

He leaned closer, wanted to inhale the sweet scent of Dream by Gap. It was mixed with sweat, blood, and his own seed now but that just made it smell better. Emily quickly swung her free arm to clock him good. He moved before being knocked over. Then he laughed; it was both jovial and sinister.

“Damn, you're feistier than I even imagined.” He kissed her cheek. “I don’t mind if you fight, you know. I prefer it actually.”

He grabbed her ankles, yanking them downward so she was lying on the bed. Emily groaned as her handcuffed arm was stretched. Her blood went cold because she knew what was about to happen. She would rather die then to let this creeper have his way with her again.

Whatever he did after she was dead was his own sick business. But while there was breath in her body she would fight being violated. She couldn’t let him do it again, she just couldn’t. _Please God_ , she prayed, _just give me strength. Give me strength and get me the hell out of here_.

***

“Do you see anything, Sam?” Hotch asked. He looked frantically out of his window, Jason’s, and then the front window.

“No, I don’t see a thing. I don’t see her or her bike. Wait, stop the car; it’s Jill!”

Jason hit the brakes on the slow moving Suburban. Sam unbuckled his seatbelt and rushed out of the car.

“Jill!”

“Damn Sam you scared the beejesus out of me. Don’t jump out at me like that. Where’s the fire?”

“I'm sorry. Have you seen Emily?” he asked.

“Not for a while.”

“What's a while?”

“I saw her around 10:30 this morning. Why are you asking?”

“She's missing.” Sam said.

“She can't be missing in Cambridge.” Jill reasoned.

“No one has heard from her in eight hours, Jill. We’re looking for her.”

“I’ll head home and call some friends. She usually hides out from the world at my house but my dad had me on autumn cleaning duty yesterday and today.” Emily used to do that anyway. The truth of the matter was that their friendship had been changing for the past year. Sometimes Jill felt as if it was all but over. She had every intention of landing on her feet if the ship went down. “I'm lucky to be out of the house now. How can I get in touch with you guys?”

“Agent Gideon?” Sam went over to the Suburban as Jason opened the driver’s side window. “Jill needs your cell phone number. She’s gonna call around to see if Emily’s hiding out.”

“That’s a good plan, Jill.” Hotch said. He wasn’t fond of her but this wasn’t about her, it was about Emily.

“Well I don’t think she's missing or anything but I am her best friend. If something happened and I did nothing it would be awful.”

Jason gave Jill a slip of paper with his number on it. Then Sam got back in the car.

“She's not in town and Jill’s clueless.” Hotch said. “Maybe we should check down Route 47. If she was upset she could’ve ridden out there. It’s going to be dark soon. She could’ve been hit by a car or even worse.”

“We’re going to find her.” Jason replied, once again moving in traffic.

“We better because if anything happens to her I will blame you.” Hotch stared at him with hard hazel eyes. “You're the one who hurt her.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her Hotch.” he said calmly. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

***

“Its getting late and we should probably go home now.” Spencer said as they climbed down the ladder from the second level. “Plus it’s a little creepy around here. I'm OK admitting that.”

“You're not scared, are you Spencer?” Ashley asked. She was climbing down the ladder too. It was getting late. She hadn't expected to be there so long but it turned out Spencer had never been to the old paper mill before.

“Scared is a relative term. There aren’t many lights out here and the sun will down soon. We should go home.”

“OK, OK. But for the record, I do have a Mag-Lite.” She pulled the handheld flashlight from the pocket of her Wranglers. “We’ll be fine.”

“There's no Mag-Lite on the highway.” Spencer mumbled. “I just don’t want to get in trouble. Mom must be having one of her bad days or she would've sent the police looking for me already.”

“All the cops are into something…there is a serial killer on the loose.”

“You know, you're only reinforcing my argument that we need to get of here.”

“Why does your mom have bad days?” Ashley asked.

“Doesn’t everyone?” Spencer countered, kicking a pebble with his Chucks. He was walking with his head down.

“Hey Spencer,” Ashley put her hand on his arm. “You can trust me. I would never tell anyone what you told me, not even under threat of torture. I remember when my mom came back and I thought she wanted to stay with me but then she ran off with that fucker.

“I wish I would've had someone to talk to. That’s what friends are for. We hold each other’s secrets forever and ever. I’ll never tell a soul.” She crossed her heart.

“My mom has schizophrenia.”

Spencer exhaled when he said it. It was actually the first time he said the word out loud. It was a scary word with multiple syllables and many connotations. There was no cure. Once you had it, you just had it.

“Whoa, for real? I've seen it on TV but don’t really know much about it.” Ashley asked. “Can it kill you?”

“No. It’s a mental health disorder characterized by hallucinations, voices, and manic behavior. She takes lithium and some other drugs to control her behavior but sometimes...yeah.”

“Oh wow, I'm so sorry to hear that.”

“It’s not my mom’s fault. She didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

“I know that.” Ashley replied in a matter of fact tone. “Spencer, is that why she doesn’t like me? Is it because of her schizophrenia?”

“I don’t think so. My mom just…she's picky. I love her very much but I'm old enough to make my own choices about friends.”

“OK.” She nodded.

Ashley would go to the library to look up schizophrenia. It sounded like it really sucked. From now on it would probably be better if she didn’t say Dr. Reid needed to get the stick out of her ass. Of course it was possible to be a schizophrenic and a jerk, wasn’t it? Maybe the Encyclopedia Britannica would know.

“Are you sure schizophrenia won't kill you?”

“I'm sure. My mom has a lot of problems but she's not dying. I…ow!”

Spencer went sprawling. He had no idea what he tripped over; it’s possible it was his own feet. Whatever it was he fell sideways into a bunch of old boxes and trash. It was a loud crash that echoed throughout the vast open space. Spencer’s expletives echoed right along with it. Ashley was impressed…she never expected to hear those kinds of words come out of his mouth before. They were more her speed.

***

Stephen looked up when he heard the noise. This place was usually as quiet as a tomb, which was why he used it for his business. He wasn’t in the mood to be interrupted right now. There was much more fun to be had. Grabbing Emily’s wrist, he handcuffed her again to the pipe.

He needed her free when he took her. He wanted her to fight. She was a hellcat, just as he imagined she would be. If her nails had been long and not blunt he was sure she would've scratched his eyes out. But her determination to keep her innocence had nothing on his desire to take it. Stephen had no problem getting rough.

He didn’t mind the screaming and crying, though they were tough to decipher through the gag in her mouth. He actually liked it better when women didn’t lie there and take it. His wife did that and it made him sick. Who wanted to fuck a dead fish?

The chase always got his adrenaline pumping. The conquest was sweeter with a little blood and some sweat. Emily Prentiss fought, she kicked, but she lost. He had to have her and Stephen took what he wanted.

He thought he might die when he sank into her tender, young flesh. She was so tight it took all he had not to come on the spot like he did the first time. He was a little heartbroken to find out he wasn’t the first to taste her. He’d been Amanda’s first and that was an unexpected boon that made the experience even more awesome. It didn’t matter; he would be Emily’s last and the best. He would make a real woman out of her.

He would show her the best ways to satisfy a man though she would only satisfy him. Stephen tried to be gentle but her continued whimpers and writhing made him crazy and he thrust his way to a frenzied climax. The savage bite of her nipple was an accident but he found that was his favorite part. When it was over, she actually let him love her. Emily was as still as a statue as he stroked and kissed all over her.

Oh God, she was everything he dreamed about. He’d spent so long waiting for this moment and the real thing was better than even his overactive imagination. Whoever took her sweet virginity, most likely the rogue Ian Doyle, was in no way worth it Stephen was sure. He wasn’t worth the sweet nipples or the dark, perfectly trimmed hair between her thighs. He definitely wasn’t worth the soft, porcelain skin.

Unable to hold back his desire, Stephen came all over her. It felt so good but he needed more soon. He couldn’t have one virginity but he knew for certain he could take another. He cleaned her off, re-handcuffed her and stuffed his cock back in his pants.

“You're so fuckin beautiful.” He was breathless as he climbed off the bed. “You're amazing.”

She said something to him through her gag; he could tell it was angry. She was once again pulling on the handcuff but he knew it was useless. It seemed as if she knew it now too.

“Don’t lose that fire, my sweet little girl. The longer you can satisfy me, the longer you live. There's no reason to worry, Emily. I'm sure you can satisfy me for some time to come.”

Stephen was sad that he would have to dispose of her when the fun times ended. It was the only way she would always belong to him. God, just thinking about strangling the life out of her as he fucked her senseless got him riled up all over again. He wanted to give her some time to recover but the truth of the matter was his want was more important than her comfort.

And he wanted her again and again. Stephen was climbing back on the rickety bed. He loved the way she shied away when she knew he was close. He was so close when he heard the noise.

What the hell was that? Scowling, he got up, grabbed a flashlight, and went to the door. Stephen opened it and looked outside. There was no one there. He walked across the concrete floor out to the more open area.

The sun was beginning to set; soon he wouldn’t be able to see his hand in front of his face. There wasn’t a soul around. It was possible that animals made the noise. Stephen saw some boxes and trash had been knocked over. He stepped a little closer to the pile.

It could’ve been bobcats or squirrels, maybe even rats. He wouldn’t be shocked to see a wild dog even. Oregon was one of those places where you could see a lot of different animals over the course of a lifetime. Of course local teenagers came up there to drink, smoke, and fuck all the time.

It was rampant in the summertime. He almost stopped coming there…the place was overrun for a while. But the cops got much better with keeping the brats off the property. All the better for him.

“Who’s out there?” he called out.

No response came back. This was a waste of his time and there were much more important things to be doing at the moment. Stephen turned and headed back to his room. She was still there; naked and so damn beautiful. She was just waiting for him to love her again. He had no intention of disappointing her.

“Oh pretty baby, I hope you know the fun has only just begun.” Unzipping his pants, he pulled her up from the bed so she was standing.

Emily whimpered as he pushed her forward so that she was bent over. He stroked her bare ass and then slapped it hard. She cried out from the pain. Oh my God, what was he getting ready to do to her?

***

“Oh my God, that was close.” Ashley sighed, slowly pulling her hand off Spencer’s mouth. “Are you OK?”

“I am now that I can breathe.” he thumped her leg and took a deep breath. “Eww, this stuff stinks.”

He pulled the boxes, debris, and trash off them. He knew he needed to be quiet. They weren't there alone.

“I just didn’t want to get caught.” She said.

“Me neither. Getting my butt kicked was not on my list of things to do today. Let’s just go home…right now.”

Ashley stood and she helped Spencer up. He skinned his knee when he fell. It was nothing Neosporin and a Band-Aid couldn’t handle.

“I wanna see who it is, Spencer.” She replied.

“Aww c'mon Seaver, do you have a death wish? You're 90 pounds soaking wet and I haven’t had my post-pubescent growth spurt. If it’s some big high school guys doing drugs they will beat us senseless…or worse. I don’t want to even think about it.”

“Our small size means we can run faster.” Ashley reasoned.

“Not if it’s six of them.” Spencer shook his head. “You're gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

“Charlie always says he wants to die hunting. When I asked him why he said everyone deserves to die happy.”

“That does nothing to make me feel better.”

“C'mon, there's just enough daylight left. We’ll snoop and then go home. Actually, we should go to the diner cuz I'm starving.”

“If you buy me dinner, it'll be a deal.” Spencer said.

“No problem.” She had a rare ten dollar bill in her pocket. That was definitely enough for two orders of burgers and fries. “Let’s find the action.”

***

Sam and Hotch saw the bike at the same time but it was Sam who gasped.

“What's the matter?” Jason asked.

“That’s definitely Emily’s Schwinn.” Sam said.

A red and black bike lay desolate on the side of the road. It looked as if the back wheel had been hit by a car. Jason turned off the road and cut the ignition.

“I need you guys to stay in the car. I'm going to check this out.”

“We want to come too.” Hotch said, speaking for himself and his best friend.

“Aaron, this could be a crime scene. You and Sam don’t know anything about preserving one. I also don’t want you two to see anything that might scar you for life. Stay in this car…I mean it.”

“We will.” Sam nodded, meaning it. He’d restrain Hotch if he had to. Being a bonehead wasn’t going to find Emily any quicker.

Gideon nodded and got out. He used his flashlight to walk along the side of the road. There were definitely tire tracks; someone was in a hurry. It might have been a hit and run. The tread was practically brand new so that might help in finding them. There was also an oil leak.

Putting on his gloves, Jason stood up Emily’s bike. The back was mangled but the front was fine. There didn’t seem to be enough blood to support a high speed hit and run. There were some droplets on the Schwinn and a few on the road as well. As Jason gently lay the bike down and followed the blood drops, he found a scrap of white material and some buttons.

“Dammit.”

Emily had been wearing a white blouse and denim cutoffs when he saw her this morning. She’d also been wearing purple Chuck Taylors, one of which was discarded just off the road beyond the tire tracks. Jason wasn’t sure if this was a smash and grab or just a grab. All he knew for sure was that Emily Prentiss had been taken. It was a classic ploy used by kidnappers.

He was just about to call Dave when he heard the gunshots. The loud sound pierced the quiet Oregon air. What the hell was going on? He rushed back to the SUV.

“What was that, Sam?” Hotch asked, looking around. It had gone from dusk to practically pitch black in a matter of minutes.

“It sounded like gunshots. Morgan told me once that football players come up here, get drunk, and shoot up beer cans.”

Jason rushed back to the car, dialing Dave. He hit the gas, flying down the dark road.

“Dave, this is Jason. Three or four gunshots were fired near the old paper mill. Emily Prentiss is missing with signs of foul play. I found her bike and some blood droplets right by the cut off on Route 47. She was definitely…

“Watch out!” Hotch exclaimed.

Jason hit the brakes hard. If not for being strapped in, it was possible all three of them would've flown straight through the windshield.

“Christ.” Sam mumbled.

“Dave, get the cops out here now! We need cops and medics.” He hung up the cell phone, threw it in the console, and rolled down the window. Who the hell was riding a damn bike in the middle of the road? He was shocked to see his twelve year old godson. “Spencer, what are you doing out here?”

“Uncle Jason, we need your help!” he was shouting and panting at the same time. He definitely wasn’t athletic and never rode his bike so fast in his life. Having a Mag-Lite in his mouth surely didn’t help matters. Spencer thought his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

“What's going on?”

“Ashley…Ashley shot him and I think he’s dead. He's probably really dead and Emily’s hurt. She needs help, we have to help her.”

“Get in the car.” Jason got out of the driver’s seat. He opened the back door for Spencer, who jumped in behind Sam. Jason put the bike in the back of the SUV and then they were flying again. All four of them could hear sirens in the distance but didn’t see lights or cop cars yet.

“I didn’t want to leave but she made me.” Spencer said. He was still trying to catch his breath as the SUV stopped again outside of the deserted paper mill.

“Who has a gun?” Jason asked.

Ashley does. Please don’t shoot her, Uncle Jason; she saved Emily’s life.”

“Emily’s in there!” Hotch went to rush out of the car but Jason grabbed him by the back of his collar. “Get the hell off me! I need to go and find her.”

“You're staying in the car.” Jason tried to maintain his composure. “I'm going to get Emily and Ashley. You three will stay here. If I see so much as a Chuck Taylor or Adidas footprint, I’ll arrest you for obstruction of a federal investigation.”

“Is that a real crime?” Sam asked.

“Yes, and it carries a one to five year sentence in prison.”

“He's bluffing.”

Hotch’s tone was defiant as he crossed his arms. Still, he didn’t move. He watched Jason get out of the car. Jason went around to the back, grabbed a bulletproof vest, and strapped it on. Then the FBI agent made his way into the mill.

It was dark in there but Jason saw a light up ahead. He used the flashlight on his Glock to make his way to it. Jason didn’t announce himself; it seemed as if he was alone. Getting closer and closer to the light he saw a tiny framed girl leaning against the wall. She was holding something that looked like a gun.

“Ashley, its Agent Gideon.” He spoke calmly. “I need you to put the gun on the ground.”

“I won't shoot you Agent Gideon.”

“I know sweetheart. I still need you to put the gun down, OK?”

“OK.” She nodded, putting the pearl handled .22 down by her beat up Adidas.

“Are you alright?” he approached her after holstering his piece.

“I'm OK.” Her face was tearstained. A little to the left of her was a puddle of vomit. “Emily’s hurt real bad but she wouldn’t let me help her. She made me get out.”

“Where's Emily?”

“In that room.” Ashley leaned her head to the right. Then she lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. “She was struggling but he was doing awful things to her. She was in a lot of pain.”

Jason closed his eyes, fighting the waves of nausea. He took a deep breath and squeezed Ashley’s shoulder for comfort. It didn’t seem to help but he wasn’t surprised. Then Jason walked into the room. Stephen Baleman lay there dead.

There were four bullet holes in him, one in his chest, two in the torso, and one in the groin area. His pants were around his ankles; the rest of his body naked. Emily Prentiss was on a rickety bed, one wrist handcuffed to a pipe on the wall. She was shaking like a leaf, crying quietly. A blanket covered some of her naked body.

“Emily? Emily, its Jason and I'm here to help you.”

She started trying to talk, pulling frantically on the pipe. The first thing he did was getting duct tape and rag off her mouth.

“Get me the fuck out of here!” she exclaimed. “Get me out of here now.”

“I'm trying to do that. Do you want me to uncover your eyes?”

“Please.”

He took the rag off and Emily squinted for a moment or two. Then she saw Baleman. Blood had pooled at his wounds and on the floor. His cock had been decimated.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Oh my God, Mr. Baleman.” She covered her mouth but was soon puking through her fingers. She turned so it would hit the floor and not her. “He raped me, Jason…Mr. Baleman raped me.”

“I know.”

“He said he’d been working up the nerve to make me his. He killed those other women. He killed those women and was going to kill me too. Oh my God.” Emily closed her eyes and willed no more tears to fall. “Spencer and Ashley…they walked in…oh God…they saw what he was doing to me.”

“Everything will be alright. An ambulance will be here soon to take you to the hospital. I'm so sorry.”

“Just get me the fuck out of here.” She held up her tough veneer. “And tell me that Spencer and Ashley are OK.”

“They're OK.”

Jason wanted desperately to comfort her but knew that he couldn’t. So he just stayed with her until the medical professionals got there. He felt awful that Ashley was standing out there all alone. He could see why Emily made her leave but that didn’t make it better.

Jason could now hear all the backup coming. This was finally over. The reign of terror on Cambridge, Oregon was over. They were already knee deep in the midst of the emotional aftermath.

***

Charlie Beauchamp never liked the cops. He grew up poor in Cambridge, which meant he was on the cop’s radar. Sure, he did his share of teenage BS but preferred to keep his nose clean. He was unhappy when he was dragged in there as a person of interest in the serial murders.

People thought he was strange but he didn’t think he was. He liked his truck, his dogs, and his guns. The general consensus in town was that he liked his kid enough. They wouldn’t say he was father of the year but the truth was no one really knew Charlie Beauchamp.

Ashley was dropped on his doorstep two weeks before her fifth birthday. Up until then he saw her every other weekend and enjoyed her enough. But when her mother decided that she had better things to do then raising a kid, like snorting coke and partying, he didn’t have much choice but to step up. Ashley and Charlie did alright on their own. While he liked beer, he maintained a steady job at Cooper Automotives. Charlie could fix or build anything and was always proud of his work.

He also had a penchant for prostitutes. Every Thursday evening he drove to Portland for his “business”. Charlie told the cops that he kept his “business” and his kid separate. Finding a nice girl willing to be a working class wife and mother was like the equivalent of parting The Red Sea. The whores, right or wrong, helped him blow off steam. He insisted it was a victimless crime and had no bearing on what kind of dad or man he was.

Tonight he was back in the Cambridge Police station. He wasn’t being questioned this time but still didn’t want to be there. Thankfully he’d only had two beers when he got the phone call that Ashley was down being questioned by the police. What could’ve possibly happened? The only person his kid hung out with on the regular basis was the little egghead Spencer. Charlie was OK with that…eggheads didn’t get into trouble or knock girls up. So he rushed down to the station fearing bad news instead of trouble.

It was over an hour before they let him see his daughter. Charlie got more and more agitated; that haughty bastard William Reid wasn’t helping. Finally, Officer Cale led him to an interrogation room where Ashley was sitting.

“Hey kid, what the hell is going on?” he sat beside her.

“Don’t talk, Charlie. I'm sure this room is bugged.”

“This ain't _Law and Order_ Ashley. Are you under arrest or what?”

“I don’t think so.” she shrugged. “I did something big, Charlie, but the bastard deserved it.”

“Whatever I gotta do, kid, I’ll do it. We don’t have much money but if I have to dig up Johnnie Cochran so he can defend you, I will. This is gonna be OK. You need to stay quiet until I can call a lawyer. You have the right to an attorney, Ashley; I know you know that. They read you your rights, didn’t you?”

“I'm not under arrest. They're gonna come in here to question me and I’ll be honest. I just need to know that you got my back.”

“I'm your dad and I love ya.” Charlie caressed her face. “I got you all the way to hell and back.”

“Thanks Dad.”

Ashley didn’t often call Charlie dad but that didn’t bother him. He was nineteen when she was born after all. She was his kid though; blood was thicker than some title. His dad was a piece of shit and it didn’t matter what Charlie called him.

He used him, and his mom, as punching bags. Charlie hardly knew how to be a dad but for 7 years he raised her, loved her, taught her, and disciplined her. They were family and it didn’t matter if she called him dad, sir, Charlie, or Chucklehead (a cute nickname she had for him).

Dave Rossi walked into the room and sat across the table from Charlie and Ashley.

“How are you, Ashley?” he asked.

“I'm OK.”

“Before you ask my daughter a damn thing I want you to tell me exactly what's going on.” Charlie demanded. “She said she isn’t under arrest and hasn’t been read her rights.”

“We’re not arresting Ashley.” Dave replied. “What happened was self-defense; Spencer and Emily’s statement both corroborate that fact.”

“What the hell happened, Agent Rossi?” Charlie demanded.

“Stephen Baleman is dead and Ashley shot him. I’d like to ask her some questions about that now.”

Charlie could hardly nod; he was dumbfounded. He looked at his daughter, who was sitting quiet beside him. Ashley was never quiet. He looked quickly back at Agent Rossi and waited for the first question.

000

When Ashley and her dad were escorted out of the interrogation room by David Rossi they saw Spencer and his dad, William.

“Do you see Spencer?” he asked. “Do you see what happens when you hang out with trailer trash? You end up in the police station.”

“Ashley’s not trailer trash.” He spoke so quietly that you could hardly hear him. Especially since Charlie Beauchamp went off.

“Who the hell are you calling trailer trash?” he jumped in William’s face. “Egghead wouldn’t have any friends if it wasn’t for my kid.” He looked at Spencer. “No offense, Egghead.”

“Charlie, just stop it!” Ashley exclaimed, pulling on his tee shirt. “He's not worth it. Don’t do this.”

“Spencer doesn't need friends like her. Today its police stations and tomorrow she’s claiming he knocked her up.”

“Dad, stop!” Spencer demanded, knowing as usual that he wouldn’t be heard.

Jason and Dave both tried to get in the middle of the two men. This fight didn’t need to happen. It certainly didn’t need to happen in front of their young children.

“I ought to smash your face in for what you're saying about my little girl.” Charlie said. “Someone needs to teach you some manners.”

“Go ahead Beauchamp. You're no better than your father…a big bully. Maybe you just wanna shoot me four times. That seems to be the way your family handles things.”

“Bill…” Jason was clearly exasperated.

“Dad, please stop.” Spencer burst into tears.

The fathers were still at each other’s throats but Ashley let go of her father’s faded Thin Lizzy tee shirt and rushed to her best friend. She threw her arms around Spencer, whispering it would be OK. He clung to her and wanted to believe that.

“Don’t cry Spencer, please don’t cry. It’s going to be OK.”

“You two need to grow the hell up.” Dave said. “Take a look at your children and learn something from them. Back off.”

The two men moved apart. Charlie sighed, running his hand through his tomato red hair. He really wanted to knock William Reid into tomorrow but he wasn’t worth it. And surely he would press charges…punks like him were the type. It was better for everyone to walk away. So he did, calling to his daughter.

“C'mon kid; we need to go home.”

Ashley pulled away from Spencer, wiping the tears from under his big glasses. He managed a little smile.

“Everything is going to be alright.” She whispered. “I promise.”

“But they don’t want us to be friends.”

“I don’t care Spencer.” Ashley shook her head. “No one will ever break us up. I made a promise and was taught to never break them. I swear to God.”

He nodded. Hugging him once more, Ashley rustled his hair and followed her dad out of the police station.

“Are you alright, Spencer?” Jason asked. He noticed that William hadn't bothered.

“I think so.” the boy replied.

“Bill, you need to get home. It’s late and I'm sure Diana is worried about you two.”

“I put her to sleep…she didn’t need this stress.”

Jason nodded. He put his hand on Spencer’s shoulder and the 12 year old looked at him.

“I don’t wanna go.” He whispered.

“Everything is going to be OK; Ashley was right. Go home, get some sleep, and I’ll come by to talk tomorrow.”

Spencer nodded, hugging his godfather. He left behind his father and silently climbed into the passenger side of the family BMW.

“Spencer, your mother doesn’t know what happened tonight and its best if she never does.”

“You want me to lie to mom?” he asked.

Spencer knew his mother was sick. He knew that from day to day, even hour to hour, her moods could change. But he also knew that she loved him more than anything. He never wanted to lie to her…it was a violation of mother/son trust.

“It’s not a lie. Just never mention it; it’s simple really. I told your mother that I was picking you up from the diner. Then I gave her a sleeping pill so she could rest. By tomorrow this will just be a bad dream.”

Nodding, Spencer buckled his seatbelt as his father started the ignition.

“Dad?”

“Yes Spencer?”

“If I keep this from mom like you want me to, then you have to back off Ashley. She's my best friend and I don’t want to lose her.”

William was shocked at his son. He just looked at him.

“I hope you realize that you're blackmailing me.” he said.

“I can't help what you choose to call it.” Spencer replied.

“Did Ashley teach you that?”

“Why are you always so mean to her? It’s not her fault she lives in a trailer. Ashley is smart, fun, and she listens to me more than anyone ever has. She saved Emily Prentiss’ life tonight without a second thought to her own safety.”

“Yes, she did…with a gun she stole from her father. She could’ve shot you.”

“She knew what she was doing. It was dumb to drag me up there to shoot cans but I'm glad she had that gun when it counted. Please don’t take her away from me. I don’t have anyone else.”

Bill sighed. He sighed again and pulled out of the parking space.

“Strike one, Spencer. If we make this deal this is strike one for her and at three I'm putting my foot down. I'm going to do my best to trust you; you're a brilliant boy. I know you're a good judge of character and I will try to believe that this is the case now. But know I'm watching the situation closely.”

“And I'm keeping my mouth shut.” Spencer replied.

His father nodded and they headed home.

000

“So I'm probably grounded till I'm 20 huh?”

“I was thinking somewhere around 35 actually.”

“Charlie…”

“What in the hell were you thinking?” he tried not to be angry. He was more scared than anything. Tonight a maniac could’ve murdered the only person Charlie ever loved. This maniac hid in plain sight and was a pillar of their community. They were all a bunch of hypocrites.

“I just wanted to teach Spencer how to shoot cans. OK, it wasn’t the best idea I ever had but I thought it was brilliant at the time.”

“And how would you have explained to his tightwad father when Spencer accidentally shot himself.”

“You taught me to shoot at .22, a .45, and a rifle. I was going to teach him. Guns aren’t toys and we always have to respect them for the deadly weapons they can be in the wrong hands.”

“You are so right. So when did shooting cans at the paper mill sound like a good plan?” he asked.

“OK, when you put it like that…” Ashley looked at her lap.

“I'm grounding you for three weeks. No TV, no music, and no riding your bike all over town. You can hang on the porch and read books. You're doing the dishes every night and I want to be able to eat off of your bedroom floor. You're lucky I don’t skin you alive, kid. That was my favorite gun and now it’s in an evidence room.”

“I'm sorry, Charlie. Did Agent Rossi say anything about giving it back?”

“Yeah. I can have it as soon as the case is officially closed. I'm just so damn glad you're alright.” He pulled her into a one-arm hug as they stopped at a stop sign. “What you did tonight was brave and selfless. I don’t want you ever forgetting that. I'm proud of you and I love you, punishment and all.”

“Thanks. Do you think Emily will be OK?”

“I don't know, kid. I'm the wrong person to ask that kind of thing. She’s got money so she can get therapy and all that stuff. Only the best will be available to her. But I'm no shrink; I'm just a mechanic. The only thing I know for sure is she would be dead if you wouldn’t have found her tonight.”

Ashley sighed. She didn’t know if she would easily get over what she saw in that room. She didn’t have money for therapy. All she did was see it, but Emily experienced it. Maybe she would rather be dead after that. Ashley didn’t know if Emily would look at her tonight as a hero or an asshole.

***

“Isn't there a female agent to question her?” Erin asked.

She and Dave were in the day room at Tuality Forest Grove Hospital. Forest Grove was 20 miles northeast of Cambridge and 25 west of Portland. It was smack in between the two cities. Emily had been admitted a few hours ago just as they whole town found out what kind of monster had been living in their midst for over a decade.

She had been strangled and revived at least twice. The sexual assault and sodomy was brutal, repeated over several hours. Emily was put through the anguish of a complete rape examination. That included pictures and the collection of evidence. She did her best to maintain her composure throughout.

It wasn’t until she was finally alone in a hospital room that she cried her eyes out. Erin just held her. Emily had never cried like that in her life and her Aunt wasn’t going to let her go. Erin promised her that this too shall pass. Emily was strong and she was loved…she would get through it. Erin would do everything she could to help because she loved her.

“Don’t tell a soul.” Emily whispered.

“What?” Erin looked at her.

“Please, Aunt Erin, don’t tell anyone that that bastard raped me. I don’t want people around here looking at me like I'm damaged or a victim. I don’t want people in my business.”

“I won't tell anyone. But you have to do something for me too, Em. You have to survive this. Don’t bury it like you do everything else. Don’t let it consume you, though it might for a while.

“It doesn’t have to define you.” Erin said. “I know it'll be hard even long after the physical scars heal. You're in a club no woman wants to be a part of but we always have each other’s back. There's nothing wrong with getting help and support.”

“Aunt Erin…”

Emily didn’t say anything else. She didn’t know what to say so she just hugged her again. Right now all she could think about was Baleman. She thought of the smell of his breath. She felt his hands all over her and that horrible grunting noise he made as he thrust inside of her.

She still heard her own screams ringing in her ears, muffled by the gag in her mouth. All she wanted to do was forget. She needed to forget because Emily didn’t think she could share her life with those feelings. They were running through her bloodstream like black tar and making it difficult to exist.

Emily wanted to close her eyes and never wake up. But she was sure that he was waiting in her dreams as well. There was some control over where her mind went when she was awake. Sleeping left her vulnerable to him again.

“Elle Greenaway is coming from the Seattle office and she’ll be here in the morning.” Dave replied. “Sex crimes are her specialty; she knows how to handle this.”

“Why do you have to put her through this, David? The son of a bitch is dead. He better be glad, by the way, because I would've killed him with my bare hands.”

“The police are tearing apart Baleman’s house, his car, and a storage unit he kept in Forest Grove. Evidence is pointing to him stalking Emily for a year or longer. Those four victims were just practice for his prize.”

“His prize being a girl that’s barely 15?” Erin asked shuddering. “She's a baby.”

“I'm positive that we’ll find the mother lode of teen and barely legal porn in his possession. Girls Emily’s age or a little older will probably come forward with stories of him getting a little too close. He surely frequented prostitutes and either wanted them to pretend they were schoolgirls or was lucky enough to find one who was.”

“You think he stalked Emily?”

“Yeah.” Dave nodded. “It wouldn’t be that difficult in a small town.”

“Dammit. I should've kept a better eye on her. I thought we were safe in Cambridge but I guess you're not safe anywhere. She's always off doing God knows what with God knows who while I work. She sneaks out of the house sometimes David…I know that she does. I've smelled weed on her laundry as well. I should've been a firmer hand. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

“What about her parents? They should be the firm hands; they should be raising this child. The fact that you’ve been here with her for the past 8 years while they hobnob through DC political society and all around the world is ridiculous. You gave up a lot for Emily, Erin. You switched around your priorities and she's damn lucky to have you. Have Gregory and Senator Prentiss even called?”

“They're on vacation and I don’t even know where.” Erin replied. “I left two urgent messages with their service but haven’t heard back. It could be a time difference issue.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Dave tried not to roll his eyes.

“So Agent Greenaway won't be here until tomorrow?”

“Right. It’s probably best to just let Emily get some rest tonight.”

“They gave her a pretty powerful sedative. I asked them to give her something where she wouldn’t dream. She was scared to death to sleep but I knew if she didn’t it would be a horrible night.” Erin sighed. “I hated having to make that kind of decision.”

Dave put his hands on her shoulders as she held back the tidal wave of emotion with her bare hands. Erin rested against him and they both exhaled. Damn, how was he ever going to leave her again?

“She will get through this.” He whispered in her ear. “You two have always had each other and that bond will remain strong.”

“I need a cigarette and a stiff drink, David. I also need to punch something, several times, very hard.”

“I know just the place if you can get away for an hour or so.”

“The nurse said Emily would be asleep for at least seven hours.” Erin replied. “A part of me wants to stay and watch over her. She’d kill me if I did though. But I don’t want her to wake up and be alone. We’ll go…but just for a little while.”

“We’ll be back.” He slipped his arm around her as they walked to the elevator. “C'mon baby, you need this.”

Erin hadn't heard that term of endearment in so long. Well, she’d heard it plenty since Dave Rossi came to town. How the hell was she going to let him go after all of this? She hardly wanted to let him go the first time. She put her niece and sanity ahead of everything else at the time.

She was burnt out from years of politics and backstabbing. Cambridge, Oregon sounded like the place to go and recover. It turned into eight years; her life was there now. But after this maybe it was time for her and Emily to find greener pastures. Paradise was lost and Erin wanted to be optimistic that they might find it somewhere else.

***

“Did you see Emily?” Morgan climbed over the banister between their houses and sat beside Hotch on the glider.

It had been three days since Ashley Seaver killed Stephen Baleman and FBI Supervisory Special Agent Jason Gideon found a bound and gagged Emily Prentiss at the old paper mill. The town was screaming for the whole place to be knocked down. It had been nothing but trouble for years now.

In addition to Ashley, Hotch and Sam were being hailed as heroes for alerting the FBI to the missing teenager. While they shied away from the media, and Charlie definitely kept the cameras away from his daughter, Jill took every opportunity she could to be in front of a camera or tape recorder. The news was spreading; serial killers made good ratings.

“She’s supposed to be released from the hospital today. The police are keeping a close eye on her because the press is everywhere. What would she want to say to me anyway?”

“Dude, you saved her life.” Derek reasoned. “I'm sure she knows that by now.”

“Ashley Seaver saved her life.” Hotch replied. “Gideon made me stay in the car. I did give some flowers and a get well card to her Aunt though. That doesn’t seem like much for all she's been though. I just wanted her to know I was thinking good thoughts for her.”

“Are they sure Mr. Baleman killed all those women?” Derek asked. “He seemed like a mild-mannered geek to me. My sister worked with him on so many volunteer projects and she was shocked to hear about this. I heard from some of the older guys that the women were raped and strangled. Is that really true? Do you really think he could do something like that?”

“If I tell you something, will you never tell anyone?” Hotch asked. “You have to cross your heart and swear to God.”

“Of course” Derek replied, doing both.

“They found Emily naked and Mr. Baleman’s pants around his ankles.”

“That doesn’t mean he did anything to her.” a cold shiver ran through him. He hoped that dude was seriously burning in hell. How a man could do that to a young girl and then just walk away and live amongst normal people…it didn’t seem possible that they were all so naïve.

“Oh c'mon Derek; he had her hostage for hours.”

“What are you saying?” Derek asked.

“I'm just wondering how someone survives a trauma like that. Will she ever be OK again knowing what happened to her and what could’ve happened?”

“Emily is strong. Maybe she’ll have therapy or something; I don't know. I just know she's a survivor. I sure it won't be easy but what other choice does she have?”

Hotch knew there were other choices and the thought made him sick to his stomach. He was worried about her well being and couldn’t make himself stop. He couldn’t stop thinking about what might have happened to her alone in that room with a maniac like Stephen Baleman.

The story wasn’t going away either. Emily was a Senator’s daughter and the child of a prominent family. In a few days, or sooner, the national press would descend upon Cambridge. Maybe the international press as well. The story was going to smolder and explode before it died down.

“I just wanna try to be there for her, as a friend, if I can.” Hotch said quietly.

“I know.” Morgan put his hand on Hotch’s shoulder. “It'll probably be a while before she's up for visitors, even friends. When you do go, just say hello. Don’t be pushy dude; just say hello.”

Morgan knew Hotch would do his best not to overwhelm her. But he also knew the kid had a bit of a hero complex and had been crazy about Emily Prentiss since the sixth grade. He’d tried, and failed, to do something about his feelings. Now was about the wrongest time ever. The whole town needed time to heal from what happened. Emily Prentiss would surely need triple that time. A lesson in patience and understanding was waiting for everyone.

***

“This is the last week of punishment.” Ashley said. She threw a stone but missed the line drawn in the dirt.

“Has it been so bad?” Spencer asked. He threw his stone but didn’t get as far as Ashley.

“Nah, it’s cool. I started reading Stephen King and he’s better than any episode of Dateline. My room is super clean and so are the dishes. I've been doing a little writing and finally fixed that raggedy chain and busted seat on my bike. Oh, and my mom called.”

“You talked to your mom?”

“No.” Ashley shook her head. “She left a message and I listened to it.” she bent to pick up more stones, placing a few in her best friend’s palm. “I haven’t heard from her since my 9th birthday and suddenly she’s calling.

“I know this is about the Baleman thing and that’s bullshit. Charlie and I are OK…I don’t need her turning things upside down again. He said I didn’t have to talk to her if I didn’t want to. I don’t want to.” this time her stone went over the line and she smiled.

“Are you really OK?” Spencer asked.

“What do you mean?”

Ashley didn’t quite look at him. This was the first time she was seeing him in two weeks. Charlie didn’t want to keep them separated like William Reid but punishment meant no friends too. Because she’d done so well, hanging out with Spencer today was a treat. Plus it was Thursday and Charlie always went to Portland on Thursdays.

He didn’t want her all alone in case some reporters or something stopped by. The bastards were persistent though he told them to shove off. He didn’t want them near his kid. Ashley didn’t want to be labeled a hero. The truth was she stole a gun from her dad to goof off with it. All of that was lost in the sensationalism of the story.

“I don't know. What we saw was really bad.”

“Are you OK?” Ashley countered.

“Nice deflection.” Spencer smiled a little as he threw a stone. He really needed to beef up his arm. “You can talk to me you know.”

“I know. I'm fine, Spencer. You don’t have to worry about me losing a minute’s sleep over capping Mr. Baleman. That rat bastard got what he deserved. I'm worried about Emily though. Her Aunt called Charlie the other night. I'm gonna go over and see her tomorrow. Maybe after that I can feel better.”

“I hope so.” Spencer replied watching Ashley throw. “I've had a few bad dreams that he’s chasing us.”

“He can't hurt us.”

“Try telling that to my subconscious. I talked to Uncle Jason about it and he helped me. Fear can be very rational sometimes but you can't let it overwhelm you.”

“I have confidence that you'll be OK.”

“I went to the library and took out a bunch of books on dreams, the subconscious, and dream interpretations by some great minds.” Spencer said. “When I fully understand something, it won't scare me anymore.”

“You must be one fearless dude.” Ashley snickered some and playfully punched his arm.

“Oh haha. There are so many things in the world that will never truly be explained. They are only spoken about through theory and conjecture. This is especially so when it comes to human behavior.”

“I guess that’s what makes people so fascinating and scary.” Ashley threw another stone. “We’re just never going to know them, even when we think we do.”

“Hey, what are you guys doing? Can I play?”

Ellie Spicer approached them and Ashley gave her a friendly smile. Like her dad, she wasn’t much of a people person, but Ellie was cool. Ashley usually preferred boys to girls but as they got older boys were only looking for one thing. They didn’t want to play games or daydream all day.

Most girls were all about makeup, drama, and boys. That really pissed Ashley off. Ellie was different. She might not stay that way but she was for now.

“We’re throwing stones trying to get them over that line.” Spencer pointed to the line.

“Oh, I think I can do that.”

“Give it a go.” Ashley handed her a stone.

Ellie threw underhanded and came just shy of the line. Ashley approved and Spencer approved of Ashley’s approval. She bent to pick up more stones. They were all over the trailer park…they could play this game for hours.

“Hey Ellie, do you like Stephen King?” Ashley asked.

“My dad doesn’t want me reading bad stuff. He’s a cop you know and with the murders and everything…no way. Plus I'm too young to go to the adult section of the library yet. And Mrs. Clemmons watches over those stairs like a hawk.”

“More like a gargoyle.” Ashley laughed. Mrs. Clemmons was cool but no way was anyone under 13 getting up the library steps on her watch. You'd be forced to read Ramona and Beezus until puberty. “I have a few of his books if you wanna borrow them.”

“You do? That’s awesome!” Ellie’s answer was enthusiastic.

“Cool.”

The kids went back to throwing stones. They had some small talk about life and the world as they saw it at the tender age of 12. But mostly they spent another summer afternoon in perfect preteen leisure. At least something could get back to normal in Cambridge.”

***

“The end of that movie is perfect.” Emily said. “I could watch it a million times.”

“I think we have watched it a million times.” Erin replied, turning off _Rebecca_. “I hope it didn’t keep you away from schoolwork that needed to be finished.”

“That’s no biggie. I’ll get the work done.”

“Don’t forget our deal. You keep your grades up and you get a car for your 16th birthday.”

Erin hated to feel like she was bribing her niece but it was a good reason to keep her grades up. What she was going to use after Emily’s 16th birthday, she had no idea.

“I could never forget that. I sometimes buy _Car & Driver_ just to look at all that’s out there.” Emily managed a smile.

Just two weeks ago she quietly celebrated her 15th birthday. It was just she, Jordan, and Erin baking a double chocolate cake with butter cream icing. They also gorged on it while having a _Soap_ marathon. Emily had fun that afternoon and evening.

She’d gone back to school when it started in September but did her best to keep a relatively low profile. There was still lots of talk, some whispering and some loud. Emily kept her head up as best she could. She was a survivor and no one would tell her otherwise.

Erin took her to a psychiatrist in Forest Grove that she spoke to every Wednesday. At first Emily thought it might be bullshit, but she was coming around to it. She was starting to think therapy might be good for other things, not just the Baleman thing. That wasn’t the first trauma of young Emily Prentiss’ life, even if it was the biggest.

Aaron Hotchner bought her a half-dozen calendulas for her birthday. She knew they were her birth flower but didn’t know that he did. He also gave her a card that said he was there as a friend if she needed anything. Emily thought that was kind. The few times they’d talked on the phone since she came home from the hospital had been awkward but comforting. She felt better when their conversations was over.

She was still hanging out with Ian as well. Her birthday gift from him was a Celtic cross that she now wore around her neck all the time. He was as generous with the weed, wine, and occasional LSD tabs as always. Aunt Erin still wasn’t overly fond of him. And Emily still declared, and meant, that she wasn’t his girlfriend. But she liked being with Ian. He never looked at her like a victim or treated her like damaged goods.

She could just be herself with him; be accepted and cared about. He knew weird Emily, nerd Emily, regular Emily, victimized Emily, and crazy ass wild girl Emily. There was a possibility that he loved her. Emily didn’t tell anyone but they had sex again. She wanted to see if it would freak her out.

She made it through the act but had nightmares about Baleman for the next week. It wasn’t the brightest move she ever made. She needed to tell her therapist about it but felt like a jackass. Emily had a lot to learn. She wasn’t going to climb the mountain overnight.

“Em?” Erin stood to clean up the popcorn bowls and soda cans.

“Hmm? Oh hey, did you know some of my friends called you Danvers for a little while?”

“What?”

“Yeah, I put a stop to it though. You're not Danvers at all. I mean, she had some control freak issues for sure but she was also homicidal. I never got the homicidal vibe from you at all.”

“I feel the need to say thank you for that.” Erin replied.

“You're welcome. What were you saying?”

“Well, what do you think about moving?”

“What do you mean? Where would we move to?”

“I don't know.” Erin shrugged. “We could move to the East Coast. Maybe even the DC area if you wanted.”

“Are you talking about sending me to live with my mother and father?” Emily asked. Just the thought of that made her stomach drop to her knees. She barely knew them and didn’t have the time or energy to play their daughter in a production of The Great American Family. Was Aunt Erin really going to get rid of her now?

“No sweetheart.” Erin sat down on the couch next to her niece. “It would still be you and I. You could be closer to your parents but would live with me. It’s just that…there are such bad memories here. If you want to start fresh somewhere else then that’s what we’ll do. All that matters to me is that you're healthy and happy, Emily. I don’t care if I have to move to the moon.”

“Unless we move to the Upper West Side of Manhattan and I enroll in The Spence School, I’d rather just stay here. This is home, Aunt Erin. The good, the bad, the darkest shit, whatever; it’s our home. No one should drive us away. All of my friends are here. My life has been in this house since we moved back from Riyadh. I’ll leave someday, and probably never look back, but right now I want to stay.”

“Alright.” She nodded. “If you want to stay, then we stay.”

Erin headed into the kitchen with the remnants of their snacks. Emily called her name and she stopped.

“Is this about Dave Rossi?” Emily asked. She got up from the couch.

“What?”

“Oh c'mon, I know you two were a little hot and tot when he was in town. A little birdie may have told me that you two were close before you moved to Mayberry to take care of me. Do you want to move so you can be closer to him?”

Erin didn’t quite know what to say. She rarely discussed her personal life with her niece. They lived together, shared a house and a life, but adults didn’t talk to children about their wants and needs. Secondly, Erin had no idea what was happening with her and Dave. The fire had been relit for sure.

She couldn’t deny the inferno raging through her even at that moment. But he was a workaholic with an insane traveling schedule, a dark job, and a wandering eye. She didn’t know if he wanted to be saddled with an instant family. When they were together in Cambridge it seemed as if he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

But with responsibilities, Erin Strauss couldn’t conduct her life on the hope of a maybe. She had to put Emily first. She wanted a life…she really wanted a sex life. But if it wasn’t meant to be then it wasn’t meant to be.

“David and I are, and were, good friends.” She replied. “But moving has nothing to do with him, I promise.” as Erin walked into the kitchen, Emily followed. “I've been happy here in Cambridge and if you are too then that’s all that matters.”

“You having a life matters to me.” Emily said. “45 is the new 30 according to _Marie Claire_. You deserve romance and breathlessness.”

“Breathlessness?” Erin raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

“You know what I mean. I love you, Aunt Erin, and I want you to be happy. You gave up a lot for me. I don’t want you doing that all the time anymore. If it’s not Dave, OK that’s cool, but date some men. I know they chase you. How could they not; you're beautiful. Just live a little. You made me promise to survive…you have to too.”

Smiling, Erin embraced Emily. She wasn’t often selfless; it wasn’t a character trait at 15. But she could hear the sincerity in her niece’s voice. They both had a chance to be happy and it was important to Erin that they embrace it. There would always be obstacles, some larger than others, but they were Prentiss women deep into their bloodstreams. And Prentiss women were strong and fierce.

“I love you, Emily Prentiss.”

“I love you too.”

“Time is definitely getting away from us. You should probably be preparing for tomorrow and then bed.”

“OK. I wanna make a quick phone call but that won't take too long.” Emily said.

“I want you in bed by 10:30. You need to get up at six to make first period on time.”

“Yes ma'am.” She nodded, hugging her Aunt again and kissing her cheek.

Erin smiled, watching her go up the back stairs. It had been three months since Emily had been kidnapped and terrorized by Stephen Baleman. Her Aunt had no idea what the future held. There were some nights that fear kept her awake. She knew they would keep fighting the battle even though there were times Erin felt totally overwhelmed.

She never let that stop her because if Emily could fight so could she. But what was she fighting for if she didn’t have some kind of life outside of work and raising a teenager? Maybe Erin would call Dave tomorrow, just to say hello. There was no harm in that. It really had been too long.

000

Emily put her Annie Lennox tape in the tape deck. It was really just _Don’t Ask Me Why, No More I Love Yous, Why_ , and _17 Again_ recorded on repeat as many times as would fit on a 90 minute tape. She listened to it to relax enough to rest at night. The sleeping pills her shrink prescribed helped too. She wished to wake up one morning and have all of this behind her. That wasn’t going to happen but Emily still wished it almost every moment of everyday.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the phone and dialed the number she memorized months earlier. This was the first time she’d ever dialed all ten digits. As the phone rang, Emily closed her eyes. If the message came on, she would just hang up. She didn’t know what to say and didn’t want to sound dumb.

“Jason Gideon.”

“Hi Jason.”

“Emily?”

“Yes, it’s Emily. How are you?”

“I'm OK. How are you?” he asked.

“Jill gave me your phone number. That’s probably a violation of something or other but I still wanted to call you. I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to apologize for how I acted that day. I'm not some Lolita and I made a fool of myself.”

“I'm glad you called. Tell me how you’ve been.”

He kept a picture of her on the credenza in his office. It was filled with pictures of people whose lives he saved. It reminded Jason how precious life was and how much there was to be grateful for. It reminded him that the darkness can oppose the light but never overtake it.

“I'm OK.” Emily replied. “I'm in school and Aunt Erin found me a good psychiatrist. I go once a week to talk to her about feelings. I sleep with Chauncey but he doesn’t always keep away the nightmares.”

Before Jason left town, he visited Emily and gave her a teddy bear. He was a black bear dressed in blue jeans and an FBI hoodie. She thought she was too old for such a thing but Jason explained to her that she wasn’t. He said a person was never too old for a true friend.

When he was younger and felt like he couldn’t share things with anyone, he told his bear Einstein. Emily wasn’t sure if that story was true but she accepted the gift. She did have nights when she spoke to herself aloud. Maybe it was to Chauncey, maybe not, but he was always in the room with her.

“Has the psychiatrist been helpful?” he asked. It had only been three months; her recovery would most likely not be miraculous. He was hopeful that recovery was possible.

“I guess. It’s not easy to talk about.”

“I know that.”

“Well, I just wanted to call and say hello. I don’t have much else to say so I’ll just go now.”

“You can call me anytime.” Jason said.

“Do you mean that?” Emily didn’t want to ask but the words came out of her mouth anyway.

“I do. I think of you, clever Katya; I worry about you.”

“Why do you call me that?”

“It fits you. It’s from an old Russian folktale and it fits you.” Jason replied.

“You're a busy guy…I don’t want to interrupt your life.”

“You're not, I promise. I'm here if you need me.”

“OK.” She didn’t think she would ever call him again but that was still nice to hear. “Goodbye Jason.”

“Goodbye.”

She hung up the phone biting back tears. It was a stupid little girl move to call him. He’d been so kind though; his voice as serene and gentle as always. She could make him tell her bedtime stories and probably wouldn’t need the sleeping pills anymore. Perhaps he was something she needed to forget though, just like the rest of it.

Something inside Emily couldn’t do that. She didn’t know what would come of this but it was best to forget about it for tonight. The call was finally made; that was a big step. She grabbed her phone and dialed out again. There were three rings on the other side before he answered.

“Hello.”

“Please tell me you've been paying attention in Latin class more than I have.” She said.

“You're practically fluent in Latin.” Hotch replied. “I'm the one who gets tongue tied.”

“I didn’t know what else to say.” Emily admitted. “I'm not good with this whole phone thing.”

Hotch understood that; neither was he. But Emily was popular and awesome. Everyone wanted to be around her. It turned out that she was actually shy. The other Emily was more like a mask. Hotch couldn’t call it fake, that bold, sassy girl lived deep in her belly.

But that wasn’t who she was most of the time. It was who she was to be safe, especially now. Now she acted as if nothing could touch or hurt her. Still, she had to hold on to the core of Emily. And she was the nervous girl on the other end of his phone. He liked them all but 100% Emily, nerves and all, was his favorite. She was also his friend.

“You can just say what's up. You can say talk to me or ask me about my day. It doesn’t have to be special, Em. If you wanna talk then I wanna talk too.”

“What do you think of maroon?” she asked.

“Um…in reference to what?”

“I'm thinking about having a paint party. I want to redecorate my whole room…make a change. What do you think of maroon, Hotch? Ian thinks it’s perfect; darker than blood and the same color as wine. He thinks it’s very me. What do you think?”

“Oh well, you know…”

Emily took a deep breath, leaned back on her pillows, listened, and then talked. Annie Lennox sang, Chauncey was close by, and she started to feel comfortable. Aunt Erin would probably come in soon and tell her to go to bed. Until then, Emily would breathe and talk.

She didn’t know what it was but Hotch was easy to talk to. He never judged or interrupted, which was probably a good thing for the rambling sort like her. When she asked him for honesty he did his best to give it to her. Emily needed that right now. She probably needed it forever but now it was essential just to get from one day to the next.

***


End file.
